The Vampire Sands
by Bainpeth
Summary: What if Agent Sheldon Jeffrey Sands of Once Upon a Time in Mexico was a vampire?
1. Night 1

The Vampire Sands and the Blood Brotherhood A continuing story by KazrenElf and Roosterroo What if Agent Sheldon Jeffrey Sands was a vampire?  
  
Sands Night1. It's a great night to be out. Kind of just what the doctor ordered really. For me. Halloween. Almost perfect, too. Full moon. Ragged clouds. If it wasn't for the fucking werewolves, it would be perfect. Then again, maybe they make it perfect. If they weren't here, I'd only have humans to hunt. What sort of fun is that?  
  
When the wind rips down the concrete canyons, it feels almost like home in my old world of upper state New York a good four hundred years ago. Forests. Trees. That was then. Stony spires reaching to snag that big fat moon. That's now. And now is good.  
  
I'm carrying tonight. Not the old stuff. No, the new liquid bullets. Silver nitrate or something the Blood Brotherhood thought up. I like to see them rip into a werewolve's furry hide and hear him shriek. Usually, I'm not the one pulling the trigger. I just arrange things then observe the pieces falling into place. But lately I've had a taste for the hunt myself. I enjoy sticking a pointed silver rod up ole wolfie's ass, just like the next guy. Good old Vlad, he had it right. Impale the motherfuckers.  
  
Some of the young ones think 'cause I talk a lot that there's nothing between the ears. Let them think. It's part of my game. Most nights, I seem to play it all by myself. Tonight is not just most nights, though, is it? Tonight we're doing chess moves on the board of the city. Classic pincher. No cheating. On the clock. Trick or treat.  
  
Here doggyboy.  
  
They thought they got me in Mexico. They haven't read Stoker. We don't die in sunlight, crap, we just don't like it much. And we regenerate. Those dickheads who blinded me were surpassed when I haunted them, hunted them, paid them back. They don't regenerate. That's what makes life good. Plain, simple revenge. Eye for an eye. Literally.  
  
I can smell the werewolves. They have a distinctive odor. Just like humans. It's easy to tell them apart. And they breathe different, too. You'd think the humans would smell them or notice how they breathe, but no. The wolvers move in their midst and are none the wiser. Poor dumb bastards.  
  
My life's biggest joke has been the CIA. The stupid fuckheads didn't seem to notice I never grew older. Well, I don't have to play that game anymore. They think I died back in ole Mexico. Let them. I can play now. Hunt myself a werewolf or two. I'll drink werewolf blood tonight. That always pleases.  
  
One of my co-hunters tonight is Stella. I know she'll get all sorts of high from the kill tonight and that will make her horny. Like she's not horny half the time. She's been dropping hints since my eyes grew back that she wanted to ride me. She's a young one, turned only a few years ago. She doesn't know about the stamina of those of us with a few hundred years under our belts. I think she's already heard about the List. Yeah, even vampires have lists about who has the biggest dick. I'm on it. She knows it. Tonight we play.  
  
But first the hunt. Come on little werefuck. I'm ready. Always ready.  
*  
  
Victoria Night 1 The music echoed across Carnegie Hall. La Traviotta. I love this one. I looked through my opera glasses at the Tenor on stage and then scan the audience. The elite of the city are here this evening for the opening of the season. The blue hired women in their gowns and jewels, their pompous husbands who can't wait for the intermission so that they might be able to conduct a little business; barbarians. I hate them. Then there are the young ones who cast flirtatious glances at one another and preen like birds to attract attention. I don't have to preen. That hasn't changed in all these years the dance is still the same even if the cast of characters are constantly shifting.  
  
The young man at my side doesn't know what I am, he thinks he is just lucky to have scored a ticket to opening night and to be seated in a private box next to a beautiful woman. I can smell the desire on him. This will be easy. Occasionally I glance his way and give a nod of approval for the performance. He smiles back, a little too much perhaps. I flutter my eyes and return my attentions to the performers. The Aria is about to begin. I let my fingers brush my neck, a dreamy look in my eyes as a listen to the woman on stage. The man next to me is watching I pretend to drop my playbill. I reach for it the same time that he does. Our hands brush. I let him touch me. I hear his heart beat. I smell the blood in his veins. Oh, how I love the hunt!  
  
The opera is over and the young man asks if I would like to go for a drink, to become better acquainted. He knows a nice quiet restaurant on the upper east side. I agree and he escorts me down to the street level where we wait for a cab among the other opera patrons. He says his name is Charles Spencer and then asks my name. He is handsome for a mortal. But then any man looks a thousand times better in a tuxedo. I miss those days when all the men were so elegantly attired. now it's just blue jeans and t- shirts. "Victoria, Victoria Dupree." I reply softly. He offers me his arm while we wait. It is then I smell him. One of my kind is near by. He to is hunting, only in very different way. Perhaps he is hunting the humans, perhaps he is hunting the wolves. I don't smell there kind here. I look around slowly, I wonder if I know him.  
  
*  
  
I causally look around, remember to be interested in the insipid remarks my young admirer is making. There he is. He is very modern, he inclines his head to me, and I in turn exchange the same grace to him with a faint smile. The cab pulls up and Charles Spenser opens the door for me to enter. I step into the cab and he follows, informing our driver of our intended location. I think it is going to rain. Good I love the rain.  
  
We are at is apartment now. It is nearly dawn so I must go. I reach for the ascot in the pocket of his tuxedo jacket.  
  
"Thank you, for an enchanting evening Charles." I dab the corner of my lips with the small piece of white silk. His dead eyes look back at me. I smile and go.  
  
*  
  
Sands Night 2 My feet take me back to Carnegie. Tonight is the last performance of La Triviotta. I am across the street, on the roof, watching the Hall. The wind is up again. Though I don't really feel the cold, the thermometer in Times Square said it was almost freezing. For effect, and to look cool, I wear a long black leather coat I took off the body of a German tourist. He was hitting on me. Imagine that. Give the boy a cigar for stupid.  
  
I sense werewolves not far away. I can't tell which ones from up here. They're mixing in with the humans. Desert mixing in with the main course.  
  
I sense her. She's nearby. I stare down, looking, searching. My vision focuses in on her. She stands out. Why can't the dumb humans see that she doesn't move like one of them? Hers is a dance. They stumble in their short-lived clumsiness. Time to party.  
  
Victoria Night 2 I couldn't sleep. That vampire was in my thoughts. Who was he? A hunter? He appeared as much. Perhaps he will return to the opera, it is afterall the last night of La Traviotta. I step out of the cab, in a swirl of silk and pull my fur about my shoulders to simulate that I am cold. I can't feel a thing actually. The street is crowded this evening. So many humans, and wolves too? An elderly couple bids me good evening and I incline my head to them.  
  
He's here. Slowly I turn. He is very close, but where? The lights dim and then return to full brightness. A clue for the patrons to move inside and begin to find their seats.  
  
Sands Night 2 The fastest way down is almost like flying, my black coat trailing out behind me. I land and go into a crouch. Then I'm up and moving faster than humans can follow. Across the street. Dashing through the slow- moving cabs. A blur to most of them. I have to get to her side. She's already gone into the building.  
  
A man holds the door for a woman. Thanks, bud. I slip inside and move by instinct. By scent. She is there, near the doors. Hesitating. She knows I'm here. Slowly she turns to face me. Her skin is pearl-pale. Her gaze rakes over me. I like it. She's tall, not as tall as me, but tall. Or maybe it's the heels. I circle around and her eyes follow my trail.  
  
When approaching another vampire, it's always safe t assume she's dangerous. Like another C.I.A. Agent. Like a well-armed Mexican whore. The silk. The jewels. The elegance is what tries to fool the eye. I must not lower my defenses just because she's gorgeous enough to stop a train. Stop a vampire.  
  
I'm glad I wore a turtleneck tonight. One more layer to take off if things go right. Sheldon Jeffrey Sands zeroes in. I stand, looking innocent. I know they always think I look innocent. Just like a cobra.  
  
Victoria 2: I enter slowly giving the vampire a chance to find me. I know he is near, i feel it in my blood. We can all feel the presence of one another. Sometimes the connection is very intense. I linger by the entrance hoping for at least a glance before taking my usual seat. A small gust of wind blows in through the door. The patrons shiver and comment on winters' hastening approach. I know it's not the wind. He's here and he's bold. I like that.  
  
He circles around me slowly, as if I am his prey. A faint smile emerges; I am. He's giving me a chance to see him, to smell him. He's taller than I and his hair flows around his face and shoulders, like something from one of Botticelli's's paintings. I stand still allowing him the same courtesy. I hold the fur about my form and then allow it to slip exposing my neck and shoulders to him.  
  
"Good evening," I say seductively. One of the ushers comes forward.  
  
"Excuse me miss. Last call for your seats. If you don't go now, you'll have to wait an hour until the intermission." He is uneasy, he knows he is interrupting something between the two of us.  
  
I turn my eyes back to the vampire in the black leather coat.  
  
Sands 2: The question is, who is seducing whom here. I see her. I want her, but I don't know her. With her coloring she might be one of the Enemy. One of the Vascendi clan. Or a von Strom. Caution comes first, though my mouth waters at the sight of her. Sleek. Classy. Skin like satin, I imagine. And I can imagine what she might taste like, too.  
  
Too late to put on my shy act. I smile back at her, imagining what she'll look like with the fur beneath her and the dress lost somewhere.  
  
Training kicks in. Survival instinct and all that. Look at her rings, anything that will tell me her clan. Friend or foe, baby. What are you?  
  
I haven't even heard her voice yet. I wonder what it sounds like. And her speech, is it accented? Curiosity can kill. I've learned patience. Especially after Mexico. Especially after Ajedrez. The bitch. Just the thought of her cools my libido. It's hard to get horney when someone's drilling your eyes out.  
  
I have to force that memory out of my mind. It makes me crazy. Crazier. Fuck, this woman is beautiful. I want to play. I want to take a chance. Does she?  
  
I move toward the door, pause and look back inviting her to follow. Now the ball's in her court.  
  
Victoria 2: He's inviting me to follow. I've seen Traviotta before. Why not?  
  
I nod my head and let my eyes speak for me. I hesitate once outside the door and raise my hand in a motion for him to wait. I saunter over to the stand-by line where the impatience wait and wonder if they'll ever be let in. I hand my ticket to a well dressed gentleman. He is surprised and thanks me profusely as he rushes inside the door. I turn hoping the hunter will still be there. I know he will be, something about the way he looks at me. Those dark, boyish eyes. Tempting, very tempting. The leather coat fits him well, not my style but good for him. I look him over carefully trying to see if he is one of my own, but he doesn't wear any symbol of his allegiance. That's smart, neither do I.  
  
I walk over to him, the silk gently swaying with each step. "Where shall we go from here?" I asked formally a little bit of my old life slips through with the words. That sweet mixture of English sprinkled with those gentle Arcadian tones. Under the strong light of the marquee we can see each other more clearly. I run a hand against the side of my head, checking to see that my carefully up swept hair is still in place. I must be careful, you can never tell when you meet our kind what our intentions might be, he may wish to slit my throat and drink me dry for all I know. Then again he probably is wondering the same thing about me. Let's see where he takes this.  
  
Sands 2: She knows she's beautiful. Her eyes are a very unusual shade of green. Pure. Emerald. She's got the coloring of a Celt. She raises a hand, signaling for me to wait. What's she up to?  
  
I cast a cautious look around the city street. I don't sense others of our kind. Nowhere close, anyway. I like the way she moves. She's got the moves of a ballerina.  
  
I wonder why she gave her ticket away. Was there some meaning? Or perhaps the human was a friend? Some of us have human friends. And lovers. When we can control ourselves. It took me years of practice. Practice makes perfect.  
  
She turns to look at me again. I have to smile for her. On cue. I know my part. They all judge the book by its cover. This cover has no words, only leather. If she doesn't give the game away, I won't. I flash her a quick smile. Our eyes lock. We're both careful. She's smart. I watch her approach, wondering what it feels like to run my fingers through her hair. To pull those pins out. To help her out of that very fashionable dress. Not that I know much about fashion these days.  
  
I'm still not sure about her. There's a touch of something foreign in her accent. A hint of Greek? I can't quite place it. I still don't know if she's friend or foe, but all the signs are . . . interesting.  
  
"Why don't we take a walk?" I suggest. To show I have no intentions of harming her - at least until I know which clan she's with - I shove my hands in my coat pockets. Oh, I've got a big gun in the right one. I almost forgot. My werewolf special. I like guns. One can never have enough guns.  
  
"So you like Opera?" I ask. Great opening line, shithead. Now I am embarrassed. I'm such a fuckup. I look down at my feet as we begin to walk, hoping my hair hides my chagrin. 


	2. Sands and Victoria Night 2 part 1

The Vampire Sands and the Blood Brotherhood A continuing story by KazrenElf and Roosterroo What if Agent Sheldon Jeffrey Sands was a vampire?  
  
Sands and Victoria Night 2 part 1  
  
Sands: My feet take me back to Carnegie. Tonight is the last performance of La Triviotta. I am across the street, on the roof, watching the Hall. The wind is up again. Though I don't really feel the cold, the thermometer in Times Square said it was almost freezing. For effect, and to look cool, I wear a long black leather coat I took off the body of a German tourist. He was hitting on me. Imagine that. Give the boy a cigar for stupid.  
  
I sense werewolves not far away. I can't tell which ones from up here. They're mixing in with the humans. Desert mixing in with the main course.  
  
I sense her. She's nearby. I stare down, looking, searching. My vision focuses in on her. She stands out. Why can't the dumb humans see that she doesn't move like one of them? Hers is a dance. They stumble in their short-lived clumsiness. Time to party.  
  
Victoria: I couldn't sleep. That vampire was in my thoughts. Who was he? A hunter? He appeared as much. Perhaps he will return to the opera, it is after all the last night of La Traviotta.  
  
I step out of the cab, in a swirl of silk and pull my fur about my shoulders to simulate that I am cold. I can't feel a thing actually. The street is crowded this evening. So many humans, and wolves too? An elderly couple bids me good evening and I incline my head to them.  
  
He's here. Slowly I turn. He is very close, but where? The lights dim and then return to full brightness. A clue for the patrons to move inside and begin to find their seats.  
  
Sands: The fastest way down is almost like flying, my black coat trailing out behind me. I land and go into a crouch. Then I'm up and moving faster than humans can follow. Across the street. Dashing through the slow- moving cabs. A blur to most of them. I have to get to her side. She's already gone into the building.  
  
A man holds the door for a woman. Thanks, bud. I slip inside and move by instinct. By scent. She is there, near the doors. Hesitating. She knows I'm here. Slowly she turns to face me. Her skin is pearl-pale. Her gaze rakes over me. I like it. She's tall, not as tall as me, but tall. Or maybe it's the heels. I circle around and her eyes follow my trail.  
  
When approaching another vampire, it's always safe t assume she's dangerous. Like another C.I.A. Agent. Like a well-armed Mexican whore. The silk. The jewels. The elegance is what tries to fool the eye. I must not lower my defenses just because she's gorgeous enough to stop a train. Stop a vampire.  
  
I'm glad I wore a turtleneck tonight. One more layer to take off if things go right. Sheldon Jeffrey Sands zeroes in. I stand, looking innocent. I know they always think I look innocent. Just like a cobra.  
  
Victoria: I enter slowly giving the vampire a chance to find me. I know he is near, I feel it in my blood. We can all feel the presence of one another. Sometimes the connection is very intense.   
  
I linger by the entrance hoping for at least a glance before taking my usual seat. A small gust of wind blows in through the door. The patrons shiver and comment on winters' hastening approach. I know it's not the wind. He's here and he's bold. I like that.  
  
He circles around me slowly, as if I am his prey. A faint smile emerges; I am. He's giving me a chance to see him, to smell him. He's taller than I and his hair flows around his face and shoulders, like something from one of Botticelli's' paintings. I stand still allowing him the same courtesy. I hold the fur about my form and then allow it to slip exposing my neck and shoulders to him.  
  
"Good evening," I say seductively. One of the ushers comes forward.  
  
"Excuse me miss. Last call for your seats. If you don't go now, you'll have to wait an hour until the intermission." He is uneasy, he knows he is interrupting something between the two of us.  
  
I turn my eyes back to the vampire in the black leather coat.  
  
Sands: The question is, who is seducing whom here. I see her. I want her, but I don't know her. With her coloring she might be one of the Enemy. One of the Vascendi clan. Or a von Strom. Caution comes first, though my mouth waters at the sight of her. Sleek. Classy. Skin like satin, I imagine. And I can imagine what she might taste like, too.  
  
Too late to put on my shy act. I smile back at her, imagining what she'll look like with the fur beneath her and the dress lost somewhere.  
  
Training kicks in. Survival instinct and all that. Look at her rings, anything that will tell me her clan. Friend or foe, baby. What are you?  
  
I haven't even heard her voice yet. I wonder what it sounds like. And her speech, is it accented? Curiosity can kill. I've learned patience. Especially after Mexico. Especially after Ajedrez. The bitch. Just the thought of her cools my libido. It's hard to get horney when someone's drilling your eyes out.  
  
I have to force that memory out of my mind. It makes me crazy. Crazier. Fuck, this woman is beautiful. I want to play. I want to take a chance. Does she?  
  
I move toward the door, pause and look back inviting her to follow. Now the ball's in her court.  
  
Victoria:  
  
He's inviting me to follow. I've seen Traviotta before. Why not? I nod my head and let my eyes speak for me.  
  
I hesitate once outside the door and raise my hand in a motion for him to wait. I saunter over to the stand-by line where the impatience wait and wonder if they'll ever be let in. I hand my ticket to a well dressed gentleman. He is surprised and thanks me profusely as he rushes inside the door. I turn hoping the hunter will still be there. I know he will be, something about the way he looks at me. Those dark, boyish eyes. Tempting, very tempting. The leather coat fits him well, not my style but good for him. I look him over carefully trying to see if he is one of my own, but he doesn't wear any symbol of his allegiance. That's smart, neither do I.  
  
I walk over to him, the silk gently swaying with each step. "Where shall we go from here?" I ask formally, a little bit of my old life slips through with the words. That sweet mixture of English sprinkled with those gentle Arcadian tones.  
  
Under the strong light of the marquee we can see each other more clearly. I run a hand against the side of my head, checking to see that my carefully up swept hair is still in place. I must be careful, you can never tell when you meet our kind what our intentions might be; he may wish to slit my throat and drink me dry for all I know. Then again he probably is wondering the same thing about me. Let's see where he takes this.  
  
Sands: She knows she's beautiful. Her eyes are a very unusual shade of green. Pure. Emerald. She's got the coloring of a Celt. She raises a hand, signaling for me to wait. What's she up to?  
  
I cast a cautious look around the city street. I don't sense others of our kind. Nowhere close, anyway. I like the way she moves. She's got the moves of a ballerina.  
  
I wonder why she gave her ticket away. Was there some meaning? Or perhaps the human was a friend? Some of us have human friends. And lovers. When we can control ourselves. It took me years of practice. Practice makes perfect.  
  
She turns to look at me again. I have to smile for her. On cue. I know my part. They all judge the book by its cover. This cover has no words, only leather. If she doesn't give the game away, I won't.  
  
I flash her a quick smile. Our eyes lock. We're both careful. She's smart. I watch her approach, wondering what it feels like to run my fingers through her hair. To pull those pins out. To help her out of that very fashionable dress. Not that I know much about fashion these days.  
  
I'm still not sure about her. There's a touch of something foreign in her accent. A hint of Greek? I can't quite place it. I still don't know if she's friend or foe, but all the signs are . . . interesting.  
  
"Why don't we take a walk?" I suggest. To show I have no intentions of harming her - at least until I know which clan she's with - I shove my hands in my coat pockets. Oh, I've got a big gun in the right one. I almost forgot. My werewolf special. I like guns. One can never have enough guns.  
  
"So you like Opera?" I ask. Great opening line, shithead. Now I am embarrassed. I'm such a fuckup. I look down at my feet as we begin to walk, hoping my hair hides my chagrin. To Be Continued 


	3. Sands and Victoria Night 2 part 2

The Vampire Sands and the Blood Brotherhood A continuing story by KazrenElf and Roosterroo What if Agent Sheldon Jeffrey Sands was a vampire?  
  
Sands and Victoria Night 2 part 2  
  
Victoria: I smile, "Yes." I say quietly. He doesn't know what to say to me.  
  
Sands: "There was a time when I was obsessed with opera," I admit to her, casting her a quick smile. "Or perhaps with one of the stars. It was a long time ago." I walk conscious of the distance between us, just in case she turns out to be an enemy.  
  
Victoria: I look at him carefully, he's hiding. "Oh,. . .which is your favorite?" I keep scanning him for clues to his affiliation.  
  
Sands: "It's changed over the years. Right now, probably 'The Marriage of Figuero,' but I like ballet. Coppelia and Swan Lake. Shit. Why are we talking about this stuff?"  
  
Victoria: "Because neither one of us will come out and say which clan we belong to, and both of us are arrogant. We want the other to make the first move. Pride you know ." I gaze at him through the corner of my eyes. I'm bold, this should knock him off his guard.  
  
Sands: "Abberline," I said softly. "I'm Clan Abberline."  
  
Victoria: "Very good then," I say formally. "We can stop wondering if we're enemies." I stop walking and turn to face him. "I too am Abberline." I extend my hand in a greeting. "My name is Victoria, ... Victoria Dupree."  
  
Sands: She offers me her hand. That's different. I hesitate a moment, watching her deep green eyes, then remove my hand from my pocket, from the comfort of my gun, and shake hers. "Sands. Everyone just calls me Sands." I watch her face to see if my reputation has proceeded me.  
  
Victoria: "Sands. That's a strange name."  
  
Sands: "What's strange about it? It's English."  
  
Victoria: "Well most persons are given a proper name at birth. I assume this is your last name then?" I arch an eye brow.  
  
Sands: Okay, so she's a little old-fashioned. "Yeah."  
  
Victoria: He lacks manners. I turn and resume our walk. "What were you doing around Carriage Hall last night? Hunting?" I smile pleasantly.  
  
Sands: So maybe she's not so out of the loop. "I like hunting. What do you do for fun? Besides the opera." I can't help but smile. I imagine she catches all sorts of meals in the opera.  
  
Victoria: "I hunt. Just in a very different way." I cock my head to the side in a gentle way. "I like the taste of the rich. They are so sure that they are untouchable, that money and wealth provide them a certain amount of protection."  
  
Sands: I remember when life was like that for me. I watch her through the curtain of my hair. She moves like a cat, a cheetah. Lethal. Graceful. "What makes you want to touch the untouchable? The challenge?"  
  
I wonder if she was treated badly by some aristocrat. Her name is French.  
  
Victoria: I stop and again and search his face. Silence spreads out between us. "I was raised to think I was untouchable. It was that hubris that brought me to this and brought about the destruction of my family. Anyone who thinks they are invincible is a fool." That was harsh. I smile and lighten the expression on my face.  
  
He knows what I mean. He understands, he was part of that life once. His body is firm, he moves like a hunter, always watchful, alert. It's invigorating.  
  
Sands: "No, even we are not invincible," I tell her. "Where does your accent come from? I don't quite recognize it." And her name is French but is she? I am still left wondering.  
  
Victoria: I smile. "My people made their fortunes here in the Americas, around the delta, New Orleans. My mother was English."  
  
Sands: I open my mouth in a silent 'Ah.'  
  
"I have not lived there. I did travel there before the war. It was an interesting place then, before the war. The Civil War." I watch her to see if she remembers or if she's too young.  
  
Victoria: "Yes, it was beautiful then. The area has never recovered, the grandeur is gone. Even the language has changed. Today it is all so common, so coarse."  
  
Sands: I like this one more all the time. "There can be a beauty in coarseness. Just like in death. In agony. It's all about your point of view, isn't it? Did you ever read Ginsberg? He was an American poet."  
  
Victoria: "No I don't believe I know his work." He's well read. Good.  
  
Sands: I have something I love to talk about. "He and a group he was with were groundbreakers here in the mid-twentieth century. You never read 'On The Road?' It was written by one of his friends, Kerouac. It sort of started the whole hippie thing. The Love Generation was born of it.  
  
Years later, in the eighties, I met Ginsberg. I was at a reading of poetry. He tried to pick me up. I let him, once I realized who he was. We talked until almost dawn. He had a great and inquisitive mind."  
  
I haven't talked about myself like this in a very long time. I watch her to see if she's bored with me already.  
  
Victoria: I smile. There is more to him than what he seems. More than just a black leather coat.  
  
"I apologize, I missed the hippie movement. During that time I was much more introverted. Warhol left me cold." I smile more broadly at the humor of what I have just said. But perhaps he will not think it is funny. Perhaps he will think I am too old fashioned.  
  
Sands: "Well, I think I've mislead you," I tell her. "He helped to inspire the Hippies. I think it's so interesting. I thought most people knew Allan Ginsberg and Jack Kerouac, William S. Burroughs. What about Neal Cassady?"  
  
She shakes her head.  
  
"You don't like American authors, huh? They were the Beat Generation incarnate. They put the hip in hippie." I have to smile. "Allan was a sweet man, full of piss and vinegar and longing. I never hurt him. I drank his intelligence, his views, his philosophy."  
  
I sound like a prick even to myself now.  
  
"What drives your boat?"  
  
Victoria: I like him. I like the way he speaks. "What drives my boat? " I think about his question and then smile in a sly manner.  
  
"Joseph Campbell, he was interesting. The Dali Lama, the colors of Monet, the motion of J. J. Pollick, the imagery of Eudora Welty." I would blush now if I could.  
  
Sands: "I'm glad we're in the same clan," I admit. I would hate to have to kill her. It's not often these days that I can find someone who even understands me. Too many punks have been turned to become armies for rival clans. She remembers pre-Civil War. Hell, I remember pre-English Civil War. The thought makes me smile. I seem to be doing a lot of that tonight.  
  
Victoria: "Oh, and I like to dance. The cotillions. The swirling colors of the waltz, the excitement that could come from spinning across the floor."  
  
I look ahead we are almost to central park. We've come a long way.  
  
"Yes, I am please we have so much in common. Shall we go through the park?" Perhaps we will come across two lovers embracing on a park bench. I'm beginning to work up an appetite."  
  
Sands: That sounds interesting. A loving couple for us to share. I wonder if she knows what age does to appetite. "Lead on, my lady." I gesture with a bow. "I remember the waltzes best. Have you ever waltzed with a vampire? We can move much faster. Everything beyond your partner is a blur."  
  
I can't help but remember. "Look." I have spotted a couple strolling hand in hand. They are entering a darker area. "Shall we?"  
  
Victoria: I don't answer him. I remember dancing with a vampire. It took a long time for me to release myself from my sire. Those are not pleasant memories.  
  
My eyes search the darkness as Sands points out the young couple. "Yes, let's." I reply. "Although I could be more appropriately dressed for the occasion." He leads the way and I follow the motions eagerly.  
  
Victoria: The two of turn into Central Park. There generally aren't that many people in the park after dark. Too dangerous you know. And we certainly look out of place traveling together, sort of like putting Prada with J.C. Penny's. Even I smile at the complexity of the game we are playing. I wouldn't be surprised if someone attempted to mug Sands and I. That would be interesting.  
  
I rake him with a glance. He's hiding something, I'm sure of it. There is a young couple up ahead on the path. They are heading into the shadows, their hands are all over each other. They probably aren't even supposed to be out together. Listening to their conversation, I hear a Cuban accent from the girl. Sands nods to me and slips away. He'll put himself in front of them to create a distraction. This too should be interesting. I wished I hadn't worn this fur tonight. I'll have to be careful. It's very difficult to get blood out of fur. But I suppose if I do, I'll just tell the cleaners how I was accosted by those wretched animal rights activists, and then bat my eye lashes over the tops of my tortoise shell sunglasses.  
  
Sands: I reach into my left pocket and pull out the map that is one of my more frequent props. It is embarrassingly easy to slip around and come at the couple from in front. Using a German accent, I approach the couple, my map in hand.  
  
"Excuse me, please," I say in my German-tourist accent. "I need help."  
  
The woman is young, maybe sixteen, Hispanic. She reminds me of Ajedrez. Her too bad. Thoughts of letting her live evaporate.  
  
The young man is some sort of mix of races, he has a nice dark skin with almost Caucasian features and curling black hair. I'm sure Victoria will enjoy him.  
  
I approach them. They pause in their pawing at one another in order to listen to me. I shrug and cast her what appears to be a casual shy smile. Our eyes meet. The trap has closed. She just doesn't know it yet.  
  
"What are you lookin' for?" the man asks.  
  
I continue to meet the girl's gaze, letting my will seep into her. "Maybe you can tell me where I am on this map," I say softly. The stupid fuck doesn't know he's dead.  
  
She lets go of his hand and walks towards me.  
  
"Rosa?" he calls.  
  
But Rosa doesn't really hear him. She reaches me and stares at me, hypnotized easily.  
  
I hear Victoria's voice. She's addressing the male. Good. I can have my little snack.  
  
Wetting my lips in anticipation, I hold out a hand to the girl. She takes it and we move into the darker shadows of the bushes. I don't want to be interrupted by some patrol.  
  
I bring her hand to my lips and turn it palm up. My lips brush her palm, her wrist. I can feel her pulse. I can smell her excitement. This is the sort of thing I enjoy most, the seduction. She's sighing now. The map gets stuffed back into my pocket. I want to use both hands to feel her now.  
  
My mouth moves up the curve of her arm, kissing, licking. She is stares at me. I look up at her as I come to her shoulder. I can just about read her mind. She wants to fuck.  
  
I can hear sounds of Victoria and the man and they make me only more excited. My appetites are peeked. If this human didn't look so much like a woman I hate so intently, I might have sex with her first, but the thought of Ajedrez are a total turn-off.  
  
I want to rip into her, but it's more fun to play first, to get her stirred up. It sends a enticing flavor into her blood.  
  
My mouth moves to her ear. I trace the line of her jaw with one finger. Everything is gentle. I cup her full breast as my mouth moves to her throat. She's moaning now, her hand reaching to touch me. She's pulling up my sweater to get at the waistband of my pants.  
  
I pull back for a moment to look at her. She's focused on my crotch. Now. I lean in, press my hardness against her eager hands, then sink my teeth into her neck. She stiffens and gasps in pleasure. Sure baby, you'll die from pleasure.  
  
As her blood floods into my mouth, her hands clutch at my hardness and her hips move almost as if we're making love. Not love. Death. I can taste her eagerness. She still doesn't get it. She's fucking dead and she doesn't get it. But I know.  
  
I drink more than I really need, because her face condemns her to death tonight. Her hands stop trying to claw through the fabric of my pants and fall limply to her sides. She begins to sink to the ground and I hold her with one arm as she goes still. Her heart still beats and I follow that beating down. Down.  
  
Victoria and the man are still at it. The girl is finished. I let her drop to the ground then stand and run a tongue over my lips to make sure there's nothing messy. I want to see Victoria and the man now. I can enjoy watching as much as the next pervert. To Be Continued 


	4. Sands and Victoria Night 2 part 3

Night 2 Sands & Victoria continues  
  
Victoria: I stand back for a moment and watch Sands work his magic. He's good; you can tell he enjoys his work. The girl is totally enthralled with him. Slowly I come up behind the boy. He has lovely dark skin. "Forget about her," I say seductively.  
  
"Who the hell are!" he stops his angry sentence mid -way when he sees me. His mouth falls open. I extend my hand to him. The fur slips from my shoulder. I run my hand down the side of my neck and it comes to rest upon the diamond hanging between my breasts. His eyes are fixated to the sparkling gem. "Come," I command. He walks to me and takes my hand. He's warm and his pulse is racing. He's forgotten about the girl. "You'd like to have me," I state plainly. His hands are quick to explore my body. His lips find my neck. I tilt my head back and run my fingers through his thick locks. He has a nice body, but he's not my type. I look over his shoulder to see Sands; he's already feasting. The girl appears to be dead already. My fingers tighten in the young man's hair and I pull back, hard. Lift his head.  
  
"Oh! You like it rough, do you?" he smiles.  
  
"You have no idea," I plunge my teeth into his neck. He moans with pleasure, just rough foreplay to him. Oh, . . he tastes good. I can feel his heartbeat. I loose myself for a moment in the pleasure of the act and am caught off guard. His weight falls against me and in these heels I stumble. My fur hits the ground. I catch him and steady myself. I drink deeper, his body convulses in my arms. He's strong and he grabs for my arms. A low growl emanates from my throat as his heartbeat becomes slower and slower. He's dead now. I drop his body. He hits the ground with a thud. My small pink tongue follows the line of my lips, collecting the last drops of his sweet blood. A lock of my hair has come loose and the long curl hangs across the side of my face coquettishly covering one eye. I look up to see if Sands is finished. I smile exposing my glistening white fangs.  
  
Sands : I watch the final act with Victoria and her kill. I'm buzzing with excitement. She has such a beautiful mouth, I want to taste it. I walk up to her, smiling and as I get close enough to touch her, I make a purring sound, sort I learned watching French movies. It's hard not to laugh when I feel this high and turned on.  
  
Victoria : I can smell the kill on his body. It's exquisite. I smile seductively at him and look up at him through my loosened hair. I giggle joyously and step over the young mans body until I am just about touching Sands.  
  
Sands : The scent of the kill is heady. I'm glad I can see again. I reach forward with just my mouth and nibble her bottom lip, making a low throaty sound of satisfaction. "Want to play?"  
  
Victoria : "Play?" I question as I circle around him. "What did you have in mind?" I ask. He has nice lips.  
  
Sands : "I have a place nearby. We can play there." I let her circle. It's more fun to play the dangerous games. "What kind of games do you like miss Southern Comfort?"  
  
Victoria : I snicker. He's crude but it's refreshing. I play the innocent. "I don't know. It's been a long time." I move his hair with my hand softly and whisper in his ear. "You smell wonderful." My lips hovering above his lobe.  
  
Sands : I love what she's doing to me. I know I must look like a cat with too much catnip. "Want to taste?"  
  
Victoria : I prick his ear lobe and run my tongue across the tiny wound. I slowly close my lips around his flesh and suck. A shiver runs through my body.  
  
Sands : Fuck, she's good. What she's doing feels so good. I turn my head and lick her throat, her chin, scrapping the skin lightly with my teeth. It's getting more difficult not putting my hands on her body. I want to touch her, feel her. Am I going to fast? I smile and slip one hand behind her head, holding her mouth against me. My body wants to move against her, pressing into her softness. "I want dessert."  
  
Victoria : "Dessert?" I peel my lips from his lobe. He's holding me to him, my breath caressing his skin. It's getting hard to control myself. I haven't done this in such a long time. I put the weight of my head into his hand, pulling against his strong grip.  
  
Sands : I move my mouth to hers and holding her head, capturing her in a deep kiss. She presses more firmly against me. My free hand reaches around to press against the swelling of her buttocks. My head is screaming at me that it's dangerous here. There's two dead bodies and frequent patrols, but my body is enjoying this. I may have to kill a patrolman tonight. Not the first time.  
  
We should go.  
  
I can't move.  
  
She tastes of champagne and blood, an erotic blend that fuels my desire. I press my leg between hers.  
  
Victoria : As our lips part I utter, "Not here." I pull away running my hand down his thigh. I crouch down and lift my fur from the ground. I tug and the dead boy's head hits the ground with a thump. I slide my way back up letting my fingers trail. I take a step back, putting space between our two bodies.  
  
We both snap our heads to the side. Voices! Someone's coming! My eyes widen, I haven't hidden the body! "Tomorrow." I step away. "Meet me tomorrow at the Metropolitan Museum or Art. There's a showing of Klee's work." I'm stepping back with each word I speak. I hope he comes. I slip away into the shadows, wanting more.  
  
Sands : I follow her. Klee my ass. No fucking way I'm letting her go now. We pass with supernatural speed through the trees and shadows. I catch up to her and grab her hand, spinning her around, pulling her against me, holding her with my other hand.  
  
"You can't run away from me. I believe in finishing what I start." I smile to soften my words. "I thought we were having fun."  
  
Victoria : He's strong. I might have bitten off more than I can chew. I arch my eyebrow at his challenge; then I smile. I kiss him hard on the lips and press my body again him. "You followed me? "  
  
Sands : How observant. "You knew I would."  
  
Victoria : "You don't give up do you?" I purr in response.  
  
Sands : "I'm known for being stubbornly insistent," I admit, remembering how I managed to stay conscious until I shot Ajedrez out of pure cussed stubbornness.  
  
Victoria : "Yes, I see that." I pause running my hands across his chest. "But can you be patient?" I narrow my eyes and look at him intently.  
  
Sands : I consider her question, looking up and trying to picture myself being patient. "Not tonight."  
  
Victoria : "Well then, you'll have to catch me!" I push him backwards; hard. It catches him off guard and I take off through the trees. If I escape I may never see him again, then again I might.  
  
Sands : She must think I'm a wimp. I dash after her. My age gives me much more speed than she can manage, especially in those heels. I get around and come at her from in front. She tries to doge to the side. I grab her. Spin her around. Press her up against a tree trunk with the length of my body. "I win."  
  
Before she can hit me, I put my mouth to her neck, her ear, nibbling, but not drawing blood. She tastes so good. I kiss her ear, her jaw, the pulse at her throat. I feel a low growl fighting to escape the back of my throat.  
  
Victoria : He presses me up against a tree. His lips are all over me. I moan in pleasure. I'm caught!  
  
He slams me up against a nearby tree! His lips are all over my neck, my throat! I moan in pleasure. He holds me tightly and I can barely move due to the force of his grip. I feel the bulge between his legs pressed up and against my body. I move my hips into him and twist beneath him.  
  
He's dangerous. I know that now. The way he has chased me down like I am his prey. Perhaps I am this evening. He makes me hot; reckless. Not at all like myself. I stop fighting him and relax my body. I am able to pull one of my wrists free and I entangle my fingers in his hair. I pull his head back and run my rough tongue up his throat to his chin. There's a wild look in his eyes and I'm sure it is reflected in my own. "Take me to your place," I whisper.  
  
Sands : I hear her words, "Take me to your place," come out in a husky whisper, yet I feel she's still afraid. Smart. Maybe I can make this easier on both of us.  
  
"There's a clan house. I don't socialize much." I pull back enough to meet her heavily lidded gaze. "We could go there if you'd feel more.secure." Of course, security can be an illusion, too. I half smile as I gaze into those wonderful green orbs, reminding myself that I was blind less than a year ago. Eyeless. A freak. Well, more of a freak, anyway. She is silent a moment before speaking.  
  
Victoria : I gaze deeply into his eyes. The two off us firmly hold onto each other. "No, I'd rather not." I pause for a moment staring into his dark eyes. So dark. "Not like this."  
  
I cast my eyes downward to the ground beneath our feet and then bring them quickly back to his own. "You've ruined my dress." I half smile at him. His eyes look toward the hem of my gown. It's in shreds. There are pieces of the garment scattered all over Central Park by now. Oh well, I never really liked this dress anyway. I stretch a leg out for Sands to better view. I bare a few deep scratches across my legs, places where shrubs and branches snagged my flesh as I tried to elude my pursuer. Blood slowly drips from one of the gashes.  
  
"This is no way to make an appearance at clan," I say disapprovingly. "Appearance is everything."  
  
Sands: I am mesmerized by the gash in her leg. Blood is always more fun. Not here? Fuck it. When I get done with her, she will do it here.  
  
I kneel down, taking her leg in my hand, and I run my tongue along the longest red line, tasting her, licking her blood lightly. My mouth grows hot. I open it, putting it onto the wounds. I want to bite, but I hold back. Sucking is good. Hell, she tastes so fucking fine. She smells like sex and expensive perfume. I have to wonder if she's wearing underwear with her oh-so-fashionable dress.  
  
I run my tongue further up her leg, pushing the fabric of her clothes up and away. My hand slips beneath her skirt and strokes up the inside of her thigh. She isn't stopping me.  
  
She makes a little sound and I pause to look up at her. I like the view from down here. I think about her words. It was the last thing I would ever think of - fucking appearances. I'm glad she doesn't want to go to the clan house. Some goddamn prick might explain to her that she's with psychovamp and spoil all my fun. Obviously she hasn't heard the stories about me. That's just peachy with me.  
  
There was a time when the clan house meant safety. Now it's just a base to pick up killers for a hunt. I stay away most of the time. The really old vamps live there, too important to hunt for themselves anymore. They get it to go. They have the freshly turned vamps waiting on them, serving them, toadies all. What kind of crappy existence is that?  
  
The only ones in the clan house worth even spending time with are the guardians and the historians. The guardians are the ones who create the new weapons and protect the clan from enemy clans. Francisco Esperanza runs the guardians now. He has my cell number and calls me when things get a little hot. Not much heat in New York on Halloween, though. The Weres have gone into hiding after the massacre last night.  
  
I love seeing everything fall into place.  
  
The historians keep records of our lives, research the those vamps who came before. If they figured out who was the first, they sure the fuck haven't told the rest of us. Our creation is a big mystery. Francisco thinks we're mutants. I don't think you become a mutant; you're born one. We have to die first to become vamps. Not mutants. No.  
  
Which brings my attention up to the lovely Victoria and the underwear question. My fingers continue the warm trip upwards, my mouth is following more slowly.  
  
Victoria : He's kneeling at my feet. I could run. I should run. But I don't.  
  
It's the night. The fog is rolling in and winter's chill is in the air. There are only a few stars out tonight and the world seems very dark and cold. But inside I'm on fire! I like the feeling of him touching my body. He's licking my wounds. He could bite me right here, but he's waiting for permission to do so. Pure ecstasy!  
  
I lean heavily against the tree, my nails tearing at the bark. "You make me reckless," I admit breathlessly my lids half closed. I want to take him right now, although I would prefer the comfort of satin sheets and a hot shower to the debris of the park floor. "Are you going to take me to your place?" I ask as I lean over and run a well manicured finger across his soft lips. "Or are you just going to take me?" I feel his grip tighten ever so slightly as the words drip from my tongue.  
  
Sands : Fucking hell. She's like honey. I know she doesn't want it here. Time to make nice.  
  
I slowly stand, my gaze locked with hers. Raw lightning fills the space between us, buzzing up my spine, tingling on my lips where I still taste her. I touch the corner with my tongue. I have a boner hard enough to break granite because of her smell, her taste, and that seductive look.  
  
"Yeah. If you prefer civilized, we can do it that way." I swallow hard, hold out my hand. "No more running tonight. Not from me, anyway." Her lips are full and I want to kiss her again, but I can only take so much. Must be fucking controlled. Must not scare this smooth beauty away. "Besides," I tell her, smiling through the words. "I have walls in my place much more comfortable than the trunk of a tree."  
  
Victoria: I laugh as his boldness. I place my hand in his out stretched palm. "Civilized, I always prefer civilized. At least in some things."  
  
Sands : That makes me think. There was a time. That was long ago. I take her hand, weave it through my arm, and we start walking. "There's more fun in uncivilized," I finally say. "I don't like other people writing the rules for me." I look at her profile. She's confident in her beauty, her poise. I have to wonder if this American vampire knows her history. "We haven't talked about our sires or dams." I feel the slightest stiffening in her. "We don't have to. We don't have to talk at all, if you don't want to.  
  
Victoria: "No, talking is good." I don't speak for a while thinking about my sire has unpleasant memories attached. "Rules can be very important, they can provide a certain amount of protection. But then again if I had followed the rules that governed the society of my day, I would not be walking through the park this night with such a handsome, exciting and dangerous suitor." I turn my head and a sly smile slowly appears.  
  
Sands : I haven't heard the term 'suitor' for at least a century, and I have to smile. She's an interesting mixture of modern and Old Southern. Well, she's got me pegged when she says 'dangerous.' No shit. Not to her, though. "You'd fit right in with the people who live at the clan house. I'm surprised you haven't been there."  
  
I look up. No others of our kind are anywhere nearby right now, but not terribly far away I sense something strange. It will have to wait until another night. My apartment is just across the street from the park and we've come to the sidewalk already.  
  
"So tell me about him. Or her." I raise a questioning brow. "Who is responsible for preserving your ever lasting beauty?"  
  
Victoria: I snort at his complement. A mixture of flattery and disgust. "A Scotsman, if you can you believe that."  
  
We're out of the park already and the concrete clicks beneath my heals. "I was enchanted at the time, mostly because he was so irksome to my brothers. I was after all their little angel." I give Sands one of my more innocent expressions. "It took me nearly a hundred years to get away from that prick." I place my other hand against his arm. "Please excuse the language, but is the only word that will suffice. Connor McCloud killed my father and two of my brothers. And once I was turned he treated me quite poorly. If I saw him today I would kill him on sight." A darkness flashes behind my eyes.  
  
Sands : Okay, she must think I'm a moron. Connor McCloud. Sounds too much like that "Highlander" movie. Or maybe the writer of the movie knew the real person. Best to reserve judgment. There are stranger things in life and undeath.  
  
We walk across the street at human speed, with the light, following the rules. "Okay, returning to the rules," I say, "That's the big no-no. We're hunted down and exterminated if we kill those who made us." I look at her. "Surely you knew that." How far down south did she live?  
  
Victoria: "I know." I cast my eyes downward for a moment, "but I though you were the one who said you didn't like people writing the rules for you." I look back up at him with my big green eyes. There are some things that cannot be hidden, sorrow is one. Even our kind feel, it's just very different from the way we do in human form. "But my people, believe. . ." I pause again. "Believed in a certain type of justice, about handling problems themselves." I look up at the building before us. Better than I expected. "You don't believe me do you?" I ask. He has a very skeptical look.  
  
Sands: I can't help but smile. "Does it matter?" She starts to reply, I hold up a hand. "You can be the Queen of Harlem for all it matters. It's just that, Conner McLaud is a character from a movie, well more than one movie, actually. Hasn't anyone told you?"  
  
Victoria: I blink in surprise. "No!" A smile spreads across my face. "Really, a movie?" I touch the side of my face with the back of my hand and then tuck the loose stand of hair behind my ear. "And it does matter to me if you believe me or not. All a person has in life is their honor." I look into his dark eyes. Surely he must understand that.  
  
Sands: Okay, is she fucking with me or what? Honor? Crap, another archaic word. She's full of them tonight. A trip down memory lane. "Yeah, whatever," I say as we head up the steps to my front door. The doorman, Julio, opens for me with a bright "Good evening, Mr. Sands." I nod back at him. He's done me enough favors to expect a big cash bonus every holiday season. He knows how to keep a secret, too. Not that sharing a little blood didn't help make him more interested in my welfare.  
  
The spanking new elevator has stainless steel doors that whoosh open almost silently. I usher miss lovely to the elevator. She's looking around, I expect she's check for escape routes. The place is elegant and speaks of money. I gesture for her to proceed me, then push the button for the penthouse. No use having ill-gotten gains if you can't use them.  
  
It takes a key to get past the miniscule foyer on my floor, then we're inside the safety of my home and I lock the door behind her.  
  
We're on the bottom floor inside my apartment. It's all done in black marble with thick carpets, stainless steel and leather, frosted glass and floor to ceiling windows. There is a staircase to our right going up to the bedroom.  
  
After taking off my coat, I reach to remove her fur. "I don't think you'll need fur in here," I joke. Like we need coats. Her eyes have fastened onto one of my paintings. She goes closer to study it.  
  
Victoria: It disappoints me that he is so flippant, he's jaded. It's hard not to become cynical, especially when you've lived for a couple hundred years. This is why I don't socialize too much. The younger vamps in particular leave me feeling empty.  
  
His doorman is looking at me, a little too closely. I narrow my eyes at him and he turns his head. Does he know what we are? I think he knows something. That I don't like. But perhaps it is because Sands brings so many women to his place. He strikes me as the type who likes variety. Everything is new and speaks of money. Quietly I look around carefully, checking for exits, looking for weakness. His apartment is very nice. I smile in approval.  
  
He has art, very interesting pieces. "Did you choose this?" I ask politely.  
  
Sands : "No, I painted it." I walk up behind her and put my hands very lightly on her waist.  
  
Victoria: I settle into his touch resting my back against him. I think I can trust him. I am usually a fairly good judge of our kind. "Really? I'm impressed. It's very good. What do you call it?" I'm curious about his artist side of my new acquaintance.  
  
Sands : "Old. I have changed my style. I did this back when Gainsborough was setting styles." I tighten my grip every so slightly and move my mouth against the back of her neck. She's got one of those long necks, we used to call them swan-like. It tastes as good as the rest of her.  
  
Victoria: "I loved Gainsborough." I keep talking, although he makes it hard to carry on a conversation. But I want to keep talking because when I finally give in there will be no intelligent utterances until dawn. "I loved the way his work flowed, and how he could make even the warmest subject cold in appearance like us." I roll my neck forward inviting him to continue. "Do you have any of your current work about?" I touch his thighs with the palms of my hands.  
  
Sands :  
  
Her words bring me to a jarring halt. Cold? She thinks he makes things look cold? "He makes things look cold?" I voice my thoughts out loud. Fuck, that's dangerous. I must have been just too stung by her words. I always found old Thomas' work warm and overly cheery.  
  
Victoria: "Yes, like those children he did. Pinky for instance. The colors are all rose and soft. But it's false. Her skin is hard like porcelain. Just look at the eyes." I run my hands around to his back side in a caress.  
  
Sands : That explains it. "She was one of us." I put my hand over hers. "Someone turned her too young. She was a real bitch, though. I heard she died back in the blitzkrieg." I wonder why we're talking when here we are, ready to really have some fun. I press myself along her entire backside, moving my hands to her hips. "No more art history." I want to turn her around, throw her to ground and get to it. What's holding me back? Perhaps it's the way she lowers her head and casts me a seductive sideways glance with those gleaming green eyes of hers.  
  
I spin her around until we meet eye to eye, then reassert myself, pressing the length of my body against her.  
  
Victoria: I expel a startled breath. He's . . . I wrap my arms around his firm body. Parts of him are extremely firm. I smile seductively. He must know what am I thinking. The palms of my hands move down his back and I lean in to kiss those sinful lips.  
  
Sands : Now we're talking. No more talk, actually. Her kiss is possessive. Who is seducing whom here? Doesn't matter. She bites my bottom lip and sucks it, then covers my mouth with hers, moving her body against mine. I'm already aching, I'm so fucking hard. I pull back just long enough to yank my turtleneck off. Okay, time to undress, my green eyed lovely. My hair is in my eyes, so I take time to shove it back, which reminds me; those pins in her hair will have to go. I reach for her head, my eyes on her hair, and I begin to search for them with my fingers as my mouth returns to hers.  
  
Victoria: He's so eager! Now his true color show. He has a lovely body and I want to feel it against mine. Flesh to flesh. I slip out of my heels and loose 2 and a half inches in the process. I lift my chin to reach his hungry lips, which devour me. "I'll do the hair." My hands go to my head and remove the pins effortlessly. "You take care of the dress," I say between kiss.  
  
Instantly my hair tumbles free and covers my shoulders. He'll be surprised to find I'm not wearing any underwear. Who could with some of these modern fashions? Once my hair is free my fingers head for the waistband of his pants.  
  
Sands : "Shoes," I say, and take the time to get my boots off. For some reason, pants are made too small to go over shoes most of the time. At least these jeans are.  
  
That done, I refocus on her dress. It seems to be a sort of halter, fastened at the neck. One pull should take care of that. It cascades down around her hips, and the sight of her breasts causes me to press my hands to cup them, to bend down and taste them. I feel her fingers in my hair. This seems to be going well.  
  
Victoria: He suckles my breast and it's all I can do to stay in control and not go completely wild. But then again maybe I should. He probably really likes that in his lovers. He's so well versed in seduction, he gets a lot of practice. His silky hair slips between my fingers and I gently tug on his dark locks. I want his pants off. His boots lay cast aside. He stands reluctantly pulling himself away from my breasts. I tuck my fingers into his waist band and slide his pants down to the floor. Before standing myself I run my tongue along the length of one of his well muscled thighs. He moans in pleasure.  
  
Sands: Okay, that's it.  
  
My hands, all on their own, drag her dress down around her ankles, then I pick her up around the waist and carry her backwards to the wall paneled wall. It's pale pine here and smooth. I press her up against it and reach a hand down to lift her right leg. It wraps easily around my hip. All the time, my mouth is on hers. My body eagerly moves into hers and despite the wall, she throws her head back. Bloody hell, she feels so good. We move together now and she makes soft noises of pleasure. I have to taste her. To lick her throat, the space between her breasts. I feel her fingers digging into me as I trust. She's urging me on, her heel pressing against me from behind.  
  
Victoria: Oh God! He's so hard. He'll split me in two! It's been so long since I took a lover by choice and I want all of him in me now! I dig my heel into his back and bury my face in his neck. Tasting his flesh. The smell of his body is overwhelming and I want to taste him. I want to drink and feel his blood between my lips. My fingers claw at his back. "Taste me," I moan and then throw my head back against the wall exposing my slender throat.  
  
Sands: Fuck, she's good. Miss Southern Hospitality, that's who she is. My thoughts evaporate when she says "Taste me." My teeth find her pulse, bite enough to draw blood and I do just that. Her essence floods into me, pounding, needing. I continue to grind into her and she's making the wildest noises. I feel her hands in my hair, pulling. I don't care. Her nails rake my back. It's all good. Even the sounds of our bodies seem to take me higher. I don't know how much longer I can hold back.  
  
Victoria: I inhale quickly as his teeth puncture my flesh. Everything is awash with color and light. All of my senses are heightened as he drinks from me. His skin against my skin. I want to drink from him so that we can truly be joined. If he does not offer soon I may not be able to control my base nature.  
  
Sands : I'm about to explode. The friction. The heat. The scent. The goddamn sounds. Her taste. Why isn't she biting me? Oh, I forgot. She's the lady. Ever the lady.  
  
I toss my head, sending the hair out of the way, and look at her. It's very sexy in here. I raise my chin. Okay, lady, here's your invitation. Better take it quick before it's over.  
  
Victoria: Finally, he offers. My eyes flash, I bite hard and drink deeply! I can't control myself at first. The rush of his blood as it trickle down my throat. I can feel our blood pounding together now in unison. I want to scream out with pleasure, but all I can manage is a moan because I don't want to let go! He's pumping even harder now. And I respond with equal force.  
  
Sands: She bites and I see the beauty of darkness. Stars shooting. Galaxies exploding in light. I can't tell if my eyes are open or closed. She's really drinking hard. I gasp. She moves her body more frantically and the bliss of the blood sharing mingles with sex and I climax with such force, it feels like I'm emptying my entire body into her. I jerk against her, mouth open, unable to do more than hold her against the fucking wall.  
  
Victoria: He climaxes with such intensity I stop biting! I throw my head against the wall again harder than ever and I scream out. I can't see anything at this moment, but I feel everything from the throbbing of his essence as it enters my body. It mimics the pulsing of our blood as it flows between us. I'm breathing so hard and a quietness settles between us and fills the room. I want more! I run a hand through my hair to uncover my eyes and then I kiss the side of his neck gently.  
  
Sands : I exhale, glad that I can. "Better than the tree?" I ask, smiling into those sexy green eyes.  
  
Victoria: "Still as hard, but much smoother," I tease. "Want to do it again, in perhaps another location or position?" I ask hopping he's up to the task. I slide my leg down the side of his body.  
  
Sands: At first I wonder if she's talking about me or the wall. "I've got several locations. We may have to try all of them."  
  
Victoria: I smile. "Good answer," I reply. "I have a lot more tricks I would like to show you." If I could blush I would. That wasn't a very lady like thing to say. But I can tell the prospect excites him so I don't care.  
  
Sands: "I love a woman with imagination," I tell her. I'm still plastered to her, our mouths only millimeters apart. "Where do you want to start?"  
  
Victoria : "It's your home, you chose . I am after all your guest." I close the gap between our lips and kiss him slowly and deeply. 


	5. Sands Death Day Flashback

The Vampire Sands Flashback to death day - how Sheldon Jeffrey Sands became a Vampire  
  
The sun will rise soon. Not that I care. Day. Night. It's all the same to me. With these eyes, I see just as good in the dark, although sunglasses help with the pain during the day. Give me a good dark and rainy day and I'm happy.  
  
Dark and rainy. The thought reminds me. It was dark that last day I lived as a human. Dark. Rainy. A Devil's Day, the peasents called those days back then.  
  
\\/\/\//  
  
1665 October 24th  
  
The second son of Lord Winston and Lady Emily Sands, Sheldon did not have to concern himself with living up to the family name. From a early age his nanny had called him a trouble-maker, a rake, a ne'er-do-well. Sheldon took it upon himself to live down to her expectations of him. There wasn't a serving girl who hadn't thought she was the first to lure him out to the hayloft for a tumble. Hot young bodies. Sweating. Writhing in pleasure amidst the fragrant hay. Heaven for the young Lord Sands.  
  
He found playing the part of the innocent boy paid off well. Timid smiles. Looking down at his feet. Pretending not to understand the innuendoes. He had the act down perfectly by thirteen.  
  
Age just gave him a larger arena for his romantic and rowdy activities. He had his mother wrapped around his little finger and finagled a great deal of his inheritance from her when he was eighteen. She couldn't resist his smile or his pout. Like most females.  
  
She called him her darling little angel. If she only knew. As it turned out, it was a good thing he got his inheritance early, since in actuality, he would die before his dear mother.  
  
Lord Winston, Sheldon's father on the other hand, always had a look of disappointment on his face when he looked at his younger son. Sheldon was slight of build, taking after his beautiful mother. Winston was well over six feet tall and built like a blacksmith.  
  
When he was younger, somewhere around the age of seven, Sheldon had thought if he just forced himself to eat more he would get big and strong like his father. By fourteen he figured that would never happen. Not only would it never happen, he was glad of it. He had begun to loathe his father, the pushy brute, and his elder brother who took after his father like a delayed twin.  
  
Sheldon also vowed he would never treat women the way his father treated his mother. He would never make a woman cry.  
  
He broke that promise. Not intentionally. But they did cry when he left them.  
  
The night of his death was dark, threatening rain. His turning wasn't a seduction. No drawn out courtship or flirting with a vampire. No. It was revenge actually and mercy. And his face again.  
  
Women and some men told him he was beautiful. He didn't think so. He avoided mirrors and dressed in whatever he fancied. The crowd of friends that had formed around him once he hit London thought he was progressive. They tried to copy his attire. His inflection. His turn of phrase. That only confused him. He didn't understand the attraction, really. He could be totally obnoxious and they'd still follow him.  
  
Shortly before his demise his closest friend, Jack Grovener, told him he had the elusive gift of charisma. Sheldon pondered that concept. At first he was disinclined to credit it, but the more he thought, the more he realized that stupid blind charisma might explain things.  
  
He had been drawn - not in a physical way - to a brilliant philosopher, Charles Higgins. The man attracted him the same way Sheldon attracted his circle of friends. Higgins was a light in the darkness for the youngest Sands. Questioning everything from the Church to existence itself, Higgins opened doors in Sheldon's mind. And windows.  
  
The night of his death, began for Sheldon at a bordello in London. The Smallest Rose catered to the rich. The owner was said to be Lord Alexander Mason's eldest daughter, Julie. Sheldon had never met her, but found the rumors a little too farfetched to believe. He'd met the Jennifer. She was brainless. Obviously she played a part, protecting the authentic owners of the Rose. And her face was rather plain.  
  
Quick to write people off, Sheldon wrote her off in a heartbeat, despite her huge dowry and her obvious interest.  
  
He'd took to sleeping with the older whores. They had more character and knew things the younger women had yet to learn.  
  
But before bed came cards. Sheldon had the ability to memorize every hand played in a deck, which caused his ability to calculate odds at winning to rise dramatically as they went through the deck. Some games were chance. He avoided those. It was games of skill he focused on.  
  
It was a Wednesday evening, only half-way to midnight, when a huge brute of a man entered as part of a group of men and women. They orbited around a delicate woman with dark features and eyes. She didn't need a whip to command them. A glance. A softly spoken word did the trick. Sheldon, who appreciated control when he saw it, was intrigued.  
  
She came to his table and he stood along with the other gentlemen. There was something about her dark eyes that he wanted to drink in. She wasn't the world's most beautiful woman, though she drew him like a magnet. Charisma, he idly thought, retaking his seat but not taking his eyes from hers. Her glance was like a hook in his heart, drawing him in. He studied her as he pretended interest in the cards.  
  
Her skin was pale. Almost blue-white. And her thick dark lashes made her liquid brown eyes stand out. She smiled at him, and he wondered if they would end up together that night. There was a promise in eyes like those, in lips that were stained pomegranate red. He watched as she touched her bottom lip with her tongue. He held his breath. Heat stirred in his belly, shooting downward. Careful, Sands, he told himself. The night is still young.  
  
The large man whose muscles caused the fabric of his coat-sleeves to stretch tightly around them, appeared to notice the overly long glances between the woman and Sheldon. He started to step forward, but she merely took a deep breath, and he paused.  
  
The young Lord Hamilton made introductions. Her name was Lady Lilith Chadwick. Sheldon's mind went back to tales they told children to frighten them about a demon named Lilith. He smiled, inclining his head to her as Hamilton introduced him to her.  
  
"Enchanted, madam," he said. He meant it.  
  
She pulled a fan from the folds of her golden skirt and used it with the expertise of a courtesan. He wondered if she was one.  
  
The large man who seemed jealous of her attention was introduced as Jacob Atherton. No title. Sheldon wasn't surprised. The man had the build and bearing of a bull.  
  
Another chair opened at their table within the hour. By that time, Lilith's foot had found Sheldon's calf and he wondered how far up she would go. His attention kept being drawn from his the cards in his hand to the sensations shooting into his groin, but he didn't miss a single play and won the turn.  
  
"Thank you for a good evening," Mr. Ogilby said standing. His face had grown progressively paler as he lost hand after hand all evening. He'd lost over ten thousand pounds and Sheldon wondered if he would go out and kill himself.  
  
The large man, Atherton took the vacated seat. This put Sheldon between Atherton and the Lady Lilith. The man had a strange odor to him and Sheldon identified it as horse. He raised a handkerchief to his nose to fend off the stench. Apparently the fellow wasn't familiar with bathing or colognes. He also appeared to have no talent at cards, for he proceeded to lose one hand after another. At least he was consistent, Sheldon thought as his own fortune grew.  
  
Slightly before midnight, Atherton lost yet another hand.  
  
The hulking fellow, simmering in loss for over an hour by then, turned and looked angrily at Sheldon, who was once again gathering in the winnings.  
  
"I don't know how you're doing it." Atherton let it hang there, not quite calling Sheldon a cheat.  
  
"I use my brain. Something I'm afraid you were born without," Sheldon said, tired of the sod. He heard Lady Lilith try and fail to suppress a laugh.  
  
Atherton's eyes widened and his chin jutted out. "You're a dead man," he said in a very low whisper.  
  
"Tisk," Sheldon waved a long-fingered hand. "Learn to lose, Mr. Atherton. It will happen again, the way you play."  
  
The large brute stood up so quickly, Sheldon had difficulty following the motion.  
  
"Jacob!" Lilith spoke in a very soft voice, but it caused Atherton's hot gaze to turn to her. "Enough," she said evenly.  
  
With a guttural growl, he left the table.  
  
"What a relief," Sheldon said, turning back to Lady Lilith. "The man smelled of horse and God knows what else. I think he sleeps with the pigs out back."  
  
The other gentlemen at the table laughed and concurred.  
  
"You are not afraid of him?" Lilith asked, her gaze going up and down from his eyes to his thigh.  
  
"I'm not a fighter by choice, but I know how to protect myself," Sheldon told her. He touched the sword that hung at his left hip.  
  
"He is." Her lips slowly went up into a smile.  
  
"Would you care to leave?" Sheldon looked from her to the door. "I'd be glad to escort you to your next location."  
  
The Lady inclined her head.  
  
Sheldon stood and turned to Mr. Hamilton. "Would you see that my winnings go into my account?"  
  
"My pleasure."  
  
Sheldon stuffed a handful of gold coins into his jacket pocket, grabbed a bottle of champagne from the table, and offered Lilith his hand.  
  
The other members of her entourage knew to stay behind, apparently, for Sheldon and Lilith left alone. Her carriage waited downstairs. The rain had begun to fall in cold torrents. He swiftly followed her inside, wondering where she resided, as a man dressed in black and silver livery held the door open for them.  
  
Rain pounded down on the roof of the carriage, making speech almost impossible. It was a good thing the two inside had no need of speech.  
  
Sheldon took her in his arms, took a drink of champagne directly from the bottle, then shared it with her in a kiss. She was responsive, her hands trailing over his body, finding his growing hardness and encouraging it with a little sigh of pleasure.  
  
"You're cold," he whispered, nibbling on her earlobe. "I'll warm you up."  
  
She laughed at that. "My dear, very young Mr. Sands," she said slowly. "I would love to see you try."  
  
The carriage continued on through the storm, not all of the rocking and jostling due to the condition of the roads.  
  
They arrived at the estate Lilith called home. Servants came out with lanterns to see them in. The bottle of champagne was empty and Sheldon found everything rather amusing.  
  
Taking a candelabra, Lilith led him herself, dismissing the servants. Her room was only a flight up. He had not paid much notice to the entrance hall below, but her room was so sumptuously furnished, that it did attract his attention. Thick rich curtains covered the windows and surrounded her oversized bed. A fire burned in the huge hearth, but its heat did little to dissipate the cold in the large room.  
  
"You live better than King Charles, I do believe," he told her, helping her remove her cloak.  
  
"Live? I know what life is all about, Sheldon. I assume, since we've made love, I can call you Sheldon now." She smiled, looking like an impish school girl as she moved away form his hands.  
  
"You can call me anything that pleases you." He followed after her, easily catching her about her small waist.  
  
They stood close to the fire and he bent slowly to brush her lips with the lightest of kisses. "You're still cold."  
  
She smiled. "You promised to warm me." Her petite hand reached to follow the line of his jaw and pass lightly over his lips. "You have the mouth of Lucifer."  
  
He smiled. "Is this from personal experience?"  
  
"Oh, yes." She put both hands on his shoulders and urged him over to the bed, circling around until it was he who fell back on the high mattress. Quicker than thought, she climbed upon him, her fingers working to undo his breeches, his waistcoat, and pull his shirt tails free, all the time her lips teased his, brushed against his neck, caressed his ear lobes.  
  
He smiled as her lips, still cool, left a trail of fire down his bare chest and her hand took hold of him. Rising up on her knees, she came down upon him and a gasp escaped his parted lips. His eyes closed. His head fell back, his long dark hair pooling around him. All the while, she moved rhythmically on him. He felt he should do more. He should somehow do something to bring her the same pleasure she was giving him. In the grasp of passion, he was helpless. Her knees held him as she moved upon him. He enjoyed the role of sex slave to this mysterious woman.  
  
Their love making seemed to go on for a long time. She whispered praise for his body, his face, his voice, every aspect of his person. At times she spoke in some foreign tongue. He didn't really care what she said as she took her pleasure and gave it back to him.  
  
After a time everything seemed to go faster, get hotter, more intensely pleasurable than he could bear. His back arched off of the bed as a low throaty sound escaped his parted lips and she dove forward, taking his gasp into her mouth as her own body shuddered. "La petite mort," she whispered.  
  
Feeling utterly spent, he put his hands on her waist and turned her over, so that they lay facing one another. He touched her nose, her eyes, with his kisses.  
  
"Should I go?" he asked her.  
  
"No, you may stay." She looked at him with those dark eyes of her sparkling in the fire's light.  
  
He sat up and removed his clothes, helped her remove hers, then lay studying her. "You have the most beautiful skin. It's like porcelain." He ran a finger along her shoulder, down to her waist, then held her hip with his hand. "You're still cold."  
  
"No, I'm perfect." Her voice was hushed. He could barely hear it over the sound of the storm outside.  
  
Without warning the door burst open. Jacob stood there. Sheldon's anger flared brightly. The way the firelight illuminated the big oaf, his eyes seemed red with the flame.  
  
"Get out," Lilith growled at Jacob.  
  
He ignored her and rushed, hands outstretched toward Sheldon with such speed that he seemed to cover the distance from the door to the bed, a good fifteen feet, in only two heartbeats.  
  
Feeling the man's large hands around his throat, Sheldon momentarily expected the fellow would try to strangle him or break his neck. He began to fight back and kick. He might as well have tried to fight the stone walls. Jacob, as it turned out, had neither strangling or neck-breaking in mind. He slammed Sheldon into the mattress and followed him down, digging his teeth into Sheldon's neck.  
  
Pain. Fire burning into his neck. All Sheldon could do was breathe. His arms and legs no longer obeyed him, and the heavy brute knelt with one knee on his chest so that even breathing was an effort.  
  
With every beat of his heart he could feel his life slipping away. The monster was sucking his blood! Faster and faster Sheldon's heart beat, taking him to a dark passive place where the promise of pleasure was just around the corner.  
  
The sound of something crunching overpowered the sound of the storm lashing the windows. The terrible feel of Jacob at his neck left. The weight fell away with a soft thump.  
  
Feebly, Sheldon tried to stem the flow of blood gushing from his neck. Blackness was swimming before his eyes. He heard Lilith call his name. Felt her hands on his bare chest. Then her cool lips on his neck, kissing him. The pleasure exploded in him, taking him down with it into a throbbing ecstasy.  
  
"Drink." Lilith's voice filled his world. One hand cupped his head.  
  
He opened his eyes. Lilith knelt beside him backlit by the fire's light. It turned her dark hair into a red-rimmed halo. She held something to his lips. A hot wetness trickled into his open mouth. He tried to turn his head away, but he was unable to move.  
  
"Drink," said again. "Drink or die."  
  
His lips felt the porcelains smoothness of her and he drank. With each swallow, the excitement grew. Something huge welled up within him, a bliss too pure for comprehension.  
  
"Now you will pass through the darkness," she said, her lips brushing against his ear. "I will be on the other side."  
  
He exhaled, then felt as if his body grew hollow. He wanted more of her. More of the elixir she fed him. More of her brilliant self. Yet his eyes closed, and he could no longer hear his own heart as he fell into the sleep of the undead. 


	6. Death Day Plus 3

Death Day +3 Sheldon Sands wakes up from Death  
  
Consciousness returned slowly. For someone who was used to being waited upon, used to having friends eager to do him favors, Sheldon found himself in a new and disturbing situation. He was in an enclosed area, suffocatingly small. And he wasn't breathing. Not until he took in air to yell. His screams only bounced back at him from the ceiling of his confinement mere inches above his face.  
  
It was all he could do to maneuver an arm free and try to feel the limits of his prison. It dawned upon him quite suddenly that he was in a wooden box of some sort, padded with satin, a small pillow under his head. A coffin! His hands went to his chest. No heart beat. No wait. It was there, very faintly, and different somehow. He was clearly alive.  
  
For a short time panic overtook his coolly logical mind. He fought against the cruel confines, beating, screaming, clawing until blood ran from his fingertips and tears slid from his eyes. Curses at the stupid world, the world that would bury a man alive just because they couldn't feel his heart beat, slowly died into an utterly intense silence.  
  
In that silence, madness threatened him. He had memories of Lilith and the doors opening, Jacob coming in full of rage. He remembered the man at his neck, then Lilith's urgent voice. Drink. Drink. What had happened to him? There was nothing in had heard or read that could account for it. He must be dead, then. This must be what it is like. He could not imagine lying in such close quarters as his body disintegrated around him.  
  
He closed his eyes, but had no voice left to whimper. Was it minutes, hours or days that passed? He could not tell.  
  
Then it struck him. If he was in a totally closed box, how is it that he could see himself? His eyes flew open. He lifted a hand. There was a reddish shadow before his eyes. He could see his own hand, not well, but he could see. Where was the light source? Due to the close proximity of the coffin's lid, he was unable to raise his head more than a few inches. He gazed down at himself. It seemed that his own body was the source of the light, for the wood held nothing, the blankets nothing, but his form had a soft red glow to it, even through the clothes.  
  
With a groan, he let his head fall and closed his eyes. Now he would truly die, abandoned by the stupidity of his family. He lay in utter silence. Visions swam into his eyes. Flashes of his life. The women. The games. The reckless abandon and controlled chances.  
  
Into the silence came a noise. It sounded like metal clanging against metal. Taking in a deep breath of stale air, he cried out. "Help!" His fists began once again to pound at the coffin's lid. "I'm alive!" he screamed.  
  
The noises continued. There was a crashing sound followed by footsteps.  
  
"Help me, Dickerson." It was Lilith's voice, muffled, but Sheldon could clearly hear it.  
  
More footsteps. Something heavy sliding just above him. A moment later the lid flew open and he found himself looking up at Lilith.  
  
"Sheldon," she spoke softly. "My dear boy."  
  
He grabbed hold of the sides of the coffin and tried to jump out, but his body was trembling and he needed help to sit up. There was a man with her, covered in dirt and dust, a pick-axe in his hand.  
  
"Where am I?" Sheldon's gaze kept going to the man. Something about the filthy creature drew his attention.  
  
"Help him out," Lilith ordered Dickerson. She turned to focus on Sheldon. "You're in your family's crypt. I had a difficult time getting onto the grounds."  
  
"They think I'm dead?" Sheldon asked, his head swirling. Of course they did. "They buried me." Anger colored his raspy voice.  
  
"You are not dead. Not the way you think, anyway." Her words frightened him.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"You are undead. Vampire. Have you heard of Vampires?"  
  
Sheldon shook his head wordlessly. She made no sense.  
  
With an exasperated gesture, she moved with Dickerson to help Sheldon climb from the coffin. "You were dying. It was the only way I could keep you alive. Undeath. You, I think, will adjust well."  
  
Finding himself standing beside the rise upon which his coffin rested, Sheldon began to tremble. He pulled away from Dickerson and staggered to lean against his great-grandfather's sepulcher. Indescribable weakness caused him to hold on to prevent himself from sliding to the floor.  
  
He watched as Dickerson and Lilith, apparently incredibly strong for her petite size, closed the coffin and lifted the marble lid back into place. "We must leave," she told him. "You will come with me. I will feed you, shelter you. You are my child now, Sheldon. The life you knew is over."  
  
"Well, that's a relief," Sheldon mumbled.  
  
Stronger than the man, it was Lilith who put her arm under his shoulder and helped him out into the night air. A wind was blowing, cool and clean from the north. Sheldon stopped to look up at the stars. They seemed magical tonight. Their light was brighter than he'd ever seen before.  
  
"Come on," Lilith urged. He felt her tug him forward. His unsteady feet fought to keep up with her, but his attention was focused upon the incredible things happening in the sky.  
  
He turned his head to speak to her, to ask what had changed the stars, when his gaze fell upon Dickerson. An instinct buried deep within his newly awakening body sprang to the fore. He could smell the man, not just the stench on him, but his very life. He could imagine the man's heart pumping, the blood flowing beneath the surface of his filthy skin. Sheldon wanted that blood. He needed that blood. With a hoarse growl, he lunged for the man, falling to the graveyard mud on top of him.  
  
"Mistress!" Dickerson yelled. He had the pick still in his hand, and used it to beat at Sheldon's head.  
  
"No! Stop!" Lilith's voice was like the voice of God. Despite his incredible need to bite into Dickerson, Sheldon froze. Dickerson likewise halted his attempt to struggle free.  
  
"Sheldon, dear, he's my servant. You may not have him. I have someone for you. Now get up at once." Her voice was soft and sweet, almost compassionate, but there was no denying her.  
  
Even as Sheldon stood aided by Lilith, trembling with a need he still didn't understand, Dickerson scrambled away and ran toward the carriage just over the fence.  
  
"What is happening to me?" Sheldon asked her, his eyes wide in confusion. He wasn't normally a violent man, though he knew how to use violence to his advantage.  
  
"You have been changed," she said simply. "I will explain everything in time. We must leave before anyone sees, my dear."  
  
She once again reached under his arm, as she helped him toward the carriage. It's lanterns had been shuttered, but even by starlight, Sheldon could see it clearly. They came at it from behind, so at first he did not see the driver. His gaze was drawn back to Dickerson, who had taken up his position on the back rack.  
  
"Inside, Sheldon," Lilith said, opening the door with her free hand.  
  
Sheldon looked inside, then up. His body stiffened as he caught site of Jacob sitting in the driver's seat holding the reins. Hadn't the man died?  
  
"You." he managed, gasping and pulling back.  
  
Lilith's grip was firmer than Sheldon's resistance. "He works for me."  
  
"You killed him," Sheldon told her, wondering if they were all dead and this was really hell.  
  
"No, you can't kill a vampire by breaking his neck. You only stun him." She said this as if it was not fantastic information. "We are stronger than mortals, Sheldon. Now please get in." She emphasized her request with a little pull on his body.  
  
Dazed, Sheldon tried to climb the step into the carriage. He ended crawling into it. The ride afterwards was dark and confusing in his mind. Lilith kept up a constant stream of conversation, explaining to him that he was no longer a mortal, but an immortal. No longer frail, but strong. Stronger than the strongest human.  
  
She must have noticed his inability to comprehend her words, for she fell silent at last, her gaze locked upon him. "I'm glad it came to this," she said at last. "You and I will dazzle them, Sheldon dear. Of course, we'll have to change your name for a generation or two."  
  
That made as little sense to him as the rest of what she had said. He looked into her large deceptively innocent looking eyes. Whatever caused people to fawn for his attention, to follow him around whether he wished it or not, that illusive quality of his had somehow effected Lilith. He suspected she had great power and he imagined there would be a way to entice her into sharing that power with him. Then he began to wonder if she already had.  
  
Slowly he smiled. 


	7. Sands and Victoria Day 3 part 1

Sands & Victoria Day 3 part 1  
  
Sands : Consciousness returns. Where the fuck am I? I look around. I'm laying naked on the floor in the library. Slowly it comes back to me. Victoria, crawling around on the leather couch. Veronica bent over the leather couch. I smile. She knows how to show a guy a good time. But where is she?  
  
I get up and wonder how awful I must smell. The bathroom isn't far away. I decide to shower first, hunt for Victoria second.  
  
Making my way to the bathroom, I grab my burgundy silk robe from the closet in my bedroom. Still no Victoria. Then go into the shower and turn it on. Hot water pounds down and I lift my face, enjoying the feel. It sluices away the day old city air. Might as well shampoo while I'm here.  
  
My thoughts keep going back to last night and Victoria. Didn't she say something about not being able to walk today? I laugh. Such a tease.  
  
Victoria: I hear the sound of water running? My eyes flutter, this doesn't smell like my home. Where am I? Oh yes, I smile. Sands I left him on the floor of the library, poor boy he was so tired. I was too, I almost crawled into bed. I think I'll just lay here and wait for him to find me.  
  
Sands: Now that I'm a little more presentable, I towel-dry my hair, trying to ignore the mirrors. It's better when they're steamed up. I hate looking at myself.  
  
I pull on the silk robe - a gift from who was it? - and go looking for Victoria. I find her in the guest bedroom. How apropos. She's in bed with the black satin sheets pulled just high enough to hide her breasts. I know she must be awake.  
  
"How did you sleep?" I ask from the doorway.  
  
Victoria 3: He's out of the shower now. He'll come to me soon. I smile to myself. It was a pleasant evening. I decide to lie still and wait. Just another game, really. There are so many thoughts rushing through my mind. For one, I want to know what he thinks about me? I can be insecure at times. Women of my day were trained to be that way and some habits are hard to break. Secondly, he'll be wondering why I haven't been to the clan house here in New York. I don't like those places. Everyone is standing around judging each other trying to see who they can use to gain position. The old ones are arrogant and the young ones even more so. I'm not a hunter, nor am I a historian. I was made to be a decoration. At least that's what my sire said when he made me. The first hundred years was awful. I was to be lovely and silent, and at night I was to be whatever he wanted. I meant what I said last night to Sands given the opportunity I'd kill him. And third he thinks I made up McLeod. He was a character in a movie? That's hard for me to believe, but the arrogant bastard he probably wrote the script himself. "Did you sleep well?" He's at the door.   
  
I stretch and slide against the satin sheets. "Yes," I open my eyes and sit up, holding the sheet to my body. "A little lonely in this big empty bed." I must look awful and unconsciously my hands rushes up to smooth my hair. I haven't showered yet. He has. His scent is fresh and clean, I still have him on my body. "Can I use your shower?" I ask. I stand before he replies wrapping the sheet around me as they did in the days of the Romans. Before my time. As I approach him I ask, "Is there anything left of my dress? I may have to make a call and have something sent over for me to wear."  
  
Sands : She's pretty cute in the morning. And funny. "If you hem it," I reply. I cannot hide the grin. "I can find something across the street at the boutique, if you'd like. I think I'm intimate with your size by now." Okay, I'm grinning like a stupid bloody idiot now. "I've left towels in the bathroom. After I've dressed, I'll go get you something." She is smiling again. "You choose: pants or dress."  
  
Victoria : He's leaning against the door in that deep Burgundy robe. It suits him well. I wonder if he's nervous about my being here. He's smiling like a Cheshire Cat.  
  
"It's just as well, I never liked that dress anyway." I walk by him in the doorway and run my finger across his chest. He's just offered to purchase me clothes rather than have me call my people. Interesting.  
  
"You'd go shopping for me?!" I exclaim. "I'm impressed." I kiss him lightly on the lips. "But you pick, pants or dress. I'm curious to see what the Vampire Sands chooses for me to put me in." I drop the sheet at his feet and head down the hall to the bathroom.  
  
Black marble and glass. Beautiful, masculine. I turn on the faucet in the shower. Hot water begins to pour out. I call out to him, "Did you have plans for this evening?" I'll just ask. It never hurts to ask. "I have two tickets to that exhibit at the Met." I step into the shower and let the water fall over me for awhile. I can hear a voice inside my head. His disgusting voice! It haunts me. 'You're such a lovely play thing.' I turn my face up and let the hot water run down my face and into my hair. It's like I'm trying to wash Connor away. But he's still there, in the back of my mind taunting me.   
  
I hear another voice now. One I have not heard in 200 years. It's my brother Claude. 'You should have listened to me and you would not have this distasteful Scot chasing after you. You should never have encouraged his advances. Very unseemly for a girl of your position to carry on with some one like that.'  
  
I open my eyes and his voice is gone. "I know, Claude, you were right. All of you were right and I was too stubborn to listen." I reach for the soap and later my hands. I feels so good. 


	8. Sands and Victoria Day 3 part 2 Sheldon

Sheldon Jeffrey Sands goes shopping Day 3 part 2  
  
As Victoria showered, Sands stood within his walk-in closet, deciding which color best suited his mood. When he'd been human, men wore bright colors. Then the Puritans had brought in doom and gloom and gradually men's wardrobes had descended into dark murky colors and white shirts. How abysmally boring.  
  
It wasn't until the 1960's that color had begun to creep back into men's clothes, and Sands was quick to take advantage of that. It was also when he had come up with the idea to have several males every ten years or so, be born with his name. It wasn't hard for someone with the persuasive powers of a vampire to induce pregnant women into naming their sons Sheldon Jeffrey Sands. His little joke on the world.  
  
He kept tabs on the boys, dismissing those who didn't do well in school, and following those who excelled. Their appearance didn't matter much. He knew how to disguise himself.  
  
This use of other people's lives was how Sheldon had gotten into the C.I.A. Despite their exhaustive research into the background of Sheldon Jeffrey Sands, they'd only discovered the background of the young man he had disposed of. Luckily the fellow had his coloring and he didn't have to die his hair (again). He simply assumed the man's identity after disposing of the body in a way that insured it would never be found.  
  
Of course, now that the C.I.A. incarnation of himself had been blinded, he could no longer go strolling into Langely and put back on the guise of spy. He'd love that particular role. It had brought him adventure, danger. Of course, the unfortunately business with his eyes. But like all good vampires, he'd regenerated. It had taken 9 months of blindness, but eventually his eyes had grown back, his sight returned, and he got out of the spy business. Not only that, but he had a tidy pension from the government for his disability. All ended well, he thought as he perused his closet.  
  
Despite the distance between them, he could still hear Victoria. So she wanted to go to the Met, he thought. That sounded civilized.  
  
Blue. He would wear blue. Today he felt like a little jewelry too - to show the bitches at the boutique he had money - and blue. So much for originality, he thought, tugging on his blue jeans. He slipped into socks and remembered that the boots he'd worn last night were still somewhere downstairs. He donned a denim shirt and a long thick gold chain. Dangling from it were charms he'd picked up in his travels. He fingered one from Tahiti, another from Hamburg. Each a memento of a person or experience. He'd tried having tattoos for a while, but they all disappeared in about nine months. There was one he'd had repeatedly died into his skin. He glanced down at his left hand. It would need to be redone in another month or so.  
  
Going downstairs, he located his boots on the floor by the painting Victoria had admired, put them on and searched for his coat. His wallet was in the coat. He always carried five one-hundred dollar bills and two credit cards. It was enough to get him by in a scrape. He also had several fake passports hidden in various locations both within his apartment, and other safe places without. He would not be trapped. Not again.  
  
Sands was about to go out, when his gaze passed over the Honeywell home meteorology console hanging by the door. He'd had it installed to remind him that he could not go out without looking the part of a human. Humans paid attention to the weather. It was forty degrees outside. A jacket would be needed.  
  
He reached into the hall closet and pulled out a suede and shirring lamb's wool jacket. Slipping it on, he checked the pockets. Gloves were within the left one. Fine. But he didn't need gloves just yet.  
  
He grabbed the door key from its hook, and went out to the elevator.  
  
A few moments later, he was downstairs. Wind lashed at him, stronger than last night's. The sky gray, threatened rain or worse. He took a deep breath. There was at least one other vampire nearby, other than Victoria. He looked around. He could tell the direction of the other vampire was across the street in the park, but he couldn't see who it might be.  
  
Shirking it off, he headed to his right down the long city block, turning on Park Avenue and heading toward the boutique he'd passed by so often, but never entered. People walked by swiftly today, their hands stuffed in their pockets, mufflers around their necks. He tried to remember to look cold.  
  
The boutique, Cher-E-O's, catered to the wealthy. It's spacious layout reminded him of a scene from "Pretty Woman." He walked in and looked around for something that would strike him as being good for Victoria. He didn't often go shopping for women's clothes. The last time had to be in the 50's. He felt like a kid in a candy shop because he could decide how Victoria's lovely body was dressed, then later tonight, he could undress her. That thought brought a smile to his mouth.  
  
He could hear the sound of approaching footsteps. Putting a dazed expression on his face, Sands raised his eyes up to look at the second floor.  
  
"May I help you find something?" the sales clerk asked.  
  
Acting surprised, Sands turned to look at her. She was thin with a small pierced bead in her left nostril. She looked like a poster child for starving third world nations, despite her blond hair and pale skin. Model- envy, he thought meeting her eyes.  
  
"Thank you. I am buying something for my girlfriend." He offered a dazzling smile and a little shrug.  
  
"What did you have in mind?" she spoke more slowly, her eyes studying every detail of his face.  
  
He thought. Met? Or something more interesting? "Leather pants. A top that feels nice." He put on the stupid-male routine.  
  
"What size does she wear?" Now her speech was breathier.  
  
"Well." He held up his hands. "She's this tall. And curved like this." He demonstrated. "Mabye an 8?"  
  
The sales clerk's eyes were glued to his mouth now. "All right. You stay right here and I'll bring the clothes to you." She reached out quickly and touched the sleeve of his jacket. "Oh, you must be warm. Here let me take that for you."  
  
She moved around behind him and helped him shrug out of his jacket. He cast her a grateful smile. She returned his smile with a more seductive one of her own, before turning to hang his coat over the back of a chair. She patted the chair. "Sit."  
  
"No thank you," he said. He watched her walk off toward the leather section.  
  
"Is Casees helping you?" another sales clerk asked. This one was black, voluptuous and more mature than the skinny one.  
  
"Yes, I guess she is." He continued his shy smile routine.  
  
By the time Casees came back with some clothes for him to choose from two more sales clerks had come to chat with him.  
  
"She's closer to Grace in size," Sands told Casees.  
  
"Eight," Grace mouthed.  
  
"Eight, you guessed correctly," Casees grinned. She held up black leather hip hugging pants.  
  
"Those are exactly what I had in mind." He raised a brow, imagining Victoria in them.  
  
"Oh, this top would look wonderful with them." Melissa held up a black knit top of clingy micro-fiber. "And it feels so soft."  
  
"I'll take them," Sands said.  
  
"Cash or charge?" Melissa asked, bringing her face closer to his than was necessary.  
  
"Cash."  
  
Twenty minutes later, Sands let himself into the apartment, a white bag with "Cher-E-O's" in one hand. He looked out toward the wall-high windows. It had just started to rain. He wondered if Victoria liked to dance. "Victoria, I've been shopping. What to see what I've bought you?" he said in a sing song playful tone. 


	9. Sands and Victoria Day 3 part 3 What Vi

What Victoria Does Day 3 part 3  
  
Victoria: He didn't answer, but that doesn't bother me. My mind is filled with other things. Click. He's gone now, out the front door? Sands left me alone in his home. I smile, that's' quite a compliment from him.  
  
I finish showering and shut the water off. The bathroom is filled with steam. It clings to the mirrors and hangs in the air. I reach for the towels he left for me. Egyptian Cotton, very nice on the skin. I wrap one around my hair and upsweep the bundle and dry myself off with the other.  
  
I go to the mirror and wipe it's surface with the cloth in my hand. In the mirror a familiar object catches my eye. I turn, walk to the door and close it. The burgundy robe, it's silky and I slip it on over my shoulders, belting it loosely. He won't mind.  
  
I return to the vanity and use the brush I find there to comb out my tresses, then reach for the hairdryer. It doesn't take long before every hair is in place. Our kind are cursed with a strange form of perfection. Once I cut my hair very short and within a month it had returned to its original length, curls and all.  
  
Feeling refreshed I hang the towels to dry and decide to explore. Who knows how long he'll be gone? I wander the halls admiring artwork, wondering which ones he has painted. I wander until I come upon the library. My hand covers my lips to suppress my laughter. The couch, that wonderful brown leather couch. Oh the things we did on that piece of furniture. I run a finger across the edge as I pass. My eyes glance around the room. So many books.  
  
Good I love to read. I start to finger the bindings reading the titles carefully, very eclectic mixture. We have that in common. I should read some of the stuff that he mentioned last night.  
  
Some of the books are quite old, the bindings are worn and in the old style. I carefully remove one from the shelves. The spines creaks as I open the cover. The scent old paper drifts up. I love the feeling of the old books, they have a certain life unto themselves. It's in Latin. I wonder if this belonged to him when he was alive or is it newly acquired. I lift my head. He's coming back. I sense him. Carefully I close the book and return it to its rightful place.  
  
I exit the library and turn down the hall towards. Yes, it's Sands, I can smell him. He's exiting the elevator. I round the coner just as his key turns in the lock. He calls up to me. "Victoria , I've been shopping..." I appear at the head of the stairs in his robe. I hope he doesn't mind, after all is a girl supposed to walk around the apartment naked? I see one of those very stylish white bags in his hand. Cher- E - O is written on the side. My eyes light up. I can't wait to see what he's chosen. "What did you bring me?" I ask in an excited tone. 


	10. Sands and Victoria Afternoon 3 part 1

Afternoon 3 part 1  
  
Victoria: Looking down on him from the top of the stairs, I'm really quite impressed that he went out shopping for clothing. He's dressed in all denim and looks like a poster boy for Tommy Hillfiger. I dash down the stairs, my bare feet thumping hard all the way. I stop just before him, "What's in the bag?" and I smile.  
  
Sands: "A little something for you. Do you like black?"  
  
Victoria: "A little something?" I tease. "Hopefully a little more than what's left of my dress." I smile playfully. "It is winter you know." I reach for the bag.  
  
Sands: "If you don't like it, we can get something else."  
  
Victoria: He hands me the bag, and I spin around with it, turning my back to him so I can see the garments secretly. "Oh!", I exclaim, pull out the black top. "It's so soft." I rub it with my fingers. "This will feel wonderful against my skin." Then I reach into the bag again. My eyes widen. Black leather pants, in that low hip hugging style. "Very sexy," I purr.  
  
Sands: I am fascinated by how Victoria looks in my robe. She has a beautiful figure, strong shoulders, a slender waist and long legs. I remember what it feels like to have those legs wrapped around me. "Why don't you try them on. I had go guess your size."  
  
Victoria: I turn my head just enough to see him out of the corner of my eye. I put the bag down by my feet and unlace his robe. I turn and offer the blouse to him. "Will you hold this for a moment?" I ask. Then I slip into the leather pants. No underwear, because I haven't got any to put on, just as well, I hate to see the thong strap of the girls who usually wear these things. They fit perfectly, like a second skin. "Good guess," I smile, then I remove the robe and hand it to him, exchanging one item of clothes for another. I slip the black mirco-fiber top over my head and it falls into place. It slips off one shoulder, but that's how it's cut. I scrunch the sleeves a little for a more relaxed look. Then I pull my hair out and over one shoulder. "How do I look?" I question as I give a little spin for effect.  
  
Sands: I cannot help but smile. "Good enough to eat." I step forward, dropping the robe on the carpet. She is smiling back. Even without makeup, she is beautiful.  
  
Victoria: I tilt my head with a smile exposing my neck. "I love the clothes, thank you."  
  
Sands: Moving closer to her, I stand close enough to feel her breath on my face. "I can think of nice ways for you to thank me. Several nice ways."  
  
Victoria: I wrap my hands around his torso and gently squeeze. "Like what?" I ask in a coy manner.  
  
Sands: I bring my hands up to run my fingers through her still-damp hair. "I'm sure you're imaginative."  
  
Victoria: "Yes, I am." I turn my cheek into the palm of his hand and then turn more to kiss that hand slowly. "You have a lovely home." I turn my green eyes on him. "I especially like your library. Did you read them all?" I try to change the subject, after all I just put my new clothes on.  
  
Sands: I tilt my head to the side, studying her, trying to read between the lines. "Sure. Why else would I have them?" She is holding me, but not tightly. It reminds me of my earlier idea. "Later tonight we could go out dancing." I gesture towards the windows. "It's still early, though."  
  
Victoria: A twinkle appears in the corner of my eye. "Dancing, that would be wonderful." I raise up on the balls of my feet and kiss his lips. "I should go to my place and get better shoes. All I have are those strappy heels from last night. They'll look great with this outfit, but might look suspicious considering the weather." Hopefully he won't care. I don't think he wants me to leave. "You could come with me, if you like?"  
  
Sands: Now I'm surprised. She's offering to take me to her home. Talk about interesting women. "Fine." Now I'm sure she hasn't talked to any of those whining old women at the clan house. I can't help but smile more broadly.  
  
Victoria: "Wonderful, when would you like to go?" I ask happily pleased that he has excepted my offer.  
  
Sands: I shrug. "We can go now." Only the very young vamps can't handle sunlight. She's been around as one of us for at least 150 years. I'm sure she is used to moving about in daylight by now. Unless she bought into some of the crap that's floating around out there.  
  
Victoria: "Okay , I'll get my things." I turn to go and then stop. "Have you seen my shoes this morning?" A smirk's on my face.  
  
He points over to a corner near a wall paneled in fine grained pine. I smile back and rush over to collect them. I sit down in a chair and bend over my knees to buckle the delicate straps. Then I pull my hair out of the way to buckle the second strap. I was right they look beautiful with the outfit. But I'll feel better once I'm home and into spike heeled boots and black lacey underwear. My nipples show through the fabric of the blouse. I know he likes it, and I like that he notices. Standing I ask," Where's my coat?"  
  
Sands: "Your fur is in the closet." I tap on the wooden paneling and the closet pops open. I take it out and hold it up. "I think your purse is in the pocket."  
  
Victoria: I turn and slip my arms one by one into the fur. "Thank you," I reply with a smile. "Shall we go? I don't live that far from you actually, we could walk, it's only 10 blocks."  
  
Sands: I nod. "I like the rain."  
  
Victoria: "Oh is it raining?" A surprised look on my face. "I love the rain, another thing we have in common."  
  
He takes me out of his apartment and down to the ground floor. I walk to the sidewalk while he exchanges a few words with that distasteful doorman. I stop and look into the park. Someone's there watching. But who ever it is, is just slightly out of range. I get that strange feeling in the pit of my stomach, this could be trouble, but for whom. Is the person watching me, or Sands. He's quick to join me. "This way I point," as I take his arm, heading up Park Avenue, a light rain beginning to fall. We walk in silence for a while and then I decide to start asking questions. "So, you don't care for clan either?"  
  
Sands: "What makes you say that?" I like walking with her. This is nice. People, despite the rain, look at us as we pass. Victoria must be used to people staring at her. She's got the confidence of a supermodel and the grace of royalty. I ought to know.  
  
"Does it bother you?" I ask. "Or are you used to it?"  
  
She casts me a glance. "Used to it?"  
  
"The way people look at you."  
  
Victoria: "What are you talking about?" I turn my head and look at a man in a three piece suit who passes by. He trips as I glance his way.  
  
Sands: "They're staring at you," I point out. "Well, the men. The women sort of glare."  
  
Victoria: I laugh a little. "I'm sure you get the same reaction." I squeeze his arm.  
  
Sands: "Yeah, the women glare at me a lot, too." I turned my head to smirk in her direction, the wind catching my now damp hair and blowing it across my face. In order to get it out of the way, I jerk my head a little more, and that was when I sensed him. Or her. Another was fairly close by. Enough for me to pick up that familiar frisson of sensation tingling in my spine.  
  
We continue to walk and the presence of the other walks with us. We're being shadowed.  
  
"Stop and look in the window here," I ask her, shoving her to the right towards some shop selling knitwear. I'm on Victoria's left, and as she looks in the window, I turn as if looking directly at her. I'm scanning for the other vampire. With all the people scurrying, heads down, hoods up, hats on, I'll be lucky to spot him. I sense Victoria's confusion.  
  
Victoria is dutifully looking into the window. "You should get a hat," she tells me.  
  
I see someone who may be clan Viscalli. He's ugly enough. Keeping him in sight, I move in closer so I can speak very softly to Victoria. "Do you have any knowledge of the other clans?" It seems like s stupid question, but I'm taking nothing for granted.  
  
"Not really," she casts a brief glance at me. "Why?"  
  
"I think," I explain, "that a Viscalli is after one of us. I sensed him earlier when I came out for your clothes." I touch her arm. "Don't turn around."  
  
"I wouldn't know who he was, anyway," she admits. "I've been estranged from most of our kind's society."  
  
Now I'm really taken aback. I've isolated myself from others of the blood brotherhood too, but not to the point I don't know what's going on with the clans. I always kept at least one contact to feed me intelligence on the politics of the clans. I hope I don't sound to melodramatic as I draw it out for her.  
  
"Victoria, there are friendly clans and enemy clans. Viscalli is enemy. They were founded by Clavius Viscalli around about the time of Julius Caesar. Clavius had a mother who was a Scandinavian slave. His father became one of the very rich of Rome. Clavius looked like his mother, very tall, ash blond hair, ice blue eyes. He had the heart, however, of a true Roman.  
  
"At first, like most of us, he laid low and learned from his sire. But by about 425, in the heart of the Dark Ages, he began to make his moves. He decided he did not like the sort of persons who were being turned into his fellow vampires. He thought vampires were dark and evil, so therefore should look the part. He began turning the ugliest, most gruesome looking creatures he could find.  
  
"Of course, many of them died within days of turning. Killed by other vampires for the most part, but many survived and followed Clavius as if he was their king. Which he was, in fact.  
  
"By 550 Clan Viscalli had moved across northern Europe, into Asia Minor and even North Africa. The clan Abberline sprang from, Hectus, joined forces with like-minded clans to help control the unnatural rate at which the Viscalli clan chose to turn people.  
  
"There were vampire wars across the globe. Eventually, the Viscalli clan consolidated its membership and made turning other more of a ritual, under control of the clan's elders. That's how most clans do it. But they're still the enemy of our clan, of most of what you might call the beautiful clans."  
  
She looked at me then with something between disbelief and confusion.  
  
I cannot help but reach up to move a stray strand of her wet hair out of her face. "Most of the clans prefer to turn only those humans who are pleasing to the eye. Surely you've noticed. I'm sure your sire was a hansom bastard, wasn't he?"  
  
Victoria: Victoria: "Yes, you got that right, he was a handsome bastard."  
  
I like it when Sands touches me. "But Sands, when you say ugly, you mean Bella Lagosi ugly. I saw that film once and laughed in disbelief." I'm a little nervous now, but glad he's here with me.  
  
Sands: "Not comically ugly. More like gruesomely ugly. Here. I'll show you." I put my arms around her, kissing her as I move in front of her, then turn her so she's facing back the way we came. Moving my mouth to her ear I say. "See that guy way back by the bakery? He's got a black leather jacket with silver studs. Very fifties."  
  
Victoria: I look across his shoulder as he whispers in my ear. I spot the one he is speaking of. He's turned though so I can not get a very good look at him. But what I see is terrible to look at. No redeeming qualities, he's not very tall and he is a little round in the middle. He is unshaven. He has a terrible scar running across one eye and down the side of his cheek. His hair is thin and greasy. "Oh," I say a little surprised.  
  
Sands: I can't help but laugh into her hair. "You have led a sheltered existence, Victoria." I keep my hands on her shoulders and move in a circle with her. It's safer for me to keep an eye on this guy. If he's old enough to tolerate sunlight - what little there is of it today - he's old enough to be a threat. Standing so close to her, the rain failing lightly on us, a sense of thrill goes me I haven't felt since Mexico.  
  
Okay, I'm a danger junkie. It's no big secret. That's why I go out on the hunt so often. This little punk against the two of us is no real threat, but I'm keeping my senses open.  
  
"Victoria, my dear, do you think he's following you or me? Be honest with me, sugar, 'cause this is serious when a Viscalli risk's his slimy butt to shadow one of us out here, in the day time, surrounded by humans." I gesture with my head.  
  
Actually, the rain seems to be driving most of the humans inside. It's getting colder. I can smell snow in the air. To be continued. 


	11. Sands and Victoria Afternoon 3 part 2

Sands and Victoria Afternoon 3 part 2  
  
Victoria: I shake my head and smile, "I don't know. Well," I crinkled my forehead a little, " It could be me. My sire is still after me, I left him on rather poor terms." I smile cat like remembering how I hurt him before I fled. "That's part of the reason that I have remained apart from our kind. He's sent lackeys before, but they've always been young and well , . . . Beautiful. And they've never found me this quickly before. I left Paris two months ago because his people had found me again."  
  
Sands: It's been a long time since I've been to Paris. "We need a plan." I continue to watch Mr. Fuckugly down the street. "I don't think even your sire would hire Viscalli to bring you in. We don't have any dealings with them." The wheels are rusty. Should we split up or stick together?  
  
Then I sense another. No. Two others. They're across the street and up. I can't see if they're friend or foe, but I'm not taking any chances. I take her hand and start to walk more swiftly toward the corner.  
  
"What's going on?" she asks. I'm sorry about her shoes.  
  
"There's too many out here now." I look at her. "You can't sense them?"  
  
Victoria: When he asks me to, I concentrate. It is then that I feel their presence. They are up ahead at the corner. My eyes narrow and my grip on his hand tightens. "Yes, now I do. But I can't tell if they are friendly or not. Any ideas? My home is still too far away from here."  
  
I look straight ahead when I speak, but I am impressed with him. This is what comes of being a hunter I assume. His senses are more naturally attuned to the dangers around us then are mine.  
  
Sands: I can see one of the other two now. Shit. Viscalli's written all over them. "Foe," I say to her. "Okay, we're walking for fun. In the rain. Let's get into." I look up. There's a big store. I don't know or care which one. I steer Victoria towards the glass doors. "Here," I tell her. "We've got to lose them in here. Christmas shoppers and all." But even as we step into the store, I sense more vampires. What the fuck is going on? Have I pissed someone off? Well, yes. But not too recently. I'm trying to imagine if anyone I've killed lately could be related to Viscalli by any stretch of the imagination.  
  
Victoria's in her element now. She guides me past the men's sweaters, underwear, towards the jewelry and make-up. I wonder where we're going.  
  
"Sweetheart," I say, "there's more of them now. At least five. I don't have any weapons. I know you don't have any hidden in that outfit. Do you know where our clan house is?" I'm enjoying this too much. I'm a sick bastard. It's hard for me not to smile.  
  
Victoria: This is exciting, I think to myself as I deftly guide him between the shoppers and army of sales staff. I look over my shoulder to him. "As a matter of fact sweetheart. I do." I smile. "And I think I know the perfect way out of here, follow me." My eyes flash.  
  
I pull him through the winding counters of make-up and perfume and towards the back of the store. I reach into the pocket of my coat and fumble through my purse extracting a small plastic card. I flash it as we pass by and a doorman opens a elevator for us. The doors quickly slide shut, I look over at Sands. "VIP shopper," and I shrug my shoulders. "Private elevator. We can go to the third floor and then take the private passages down to the garage. This is the way a lot of the celebrities move about the store when they want to shop. They'll have a car waiting for us engine running when we arrive."  
  
Sands: I'm impressed. I knew she had shopping genes, but I didn't know about this VIP stuff. Why didn't someone tell me before?  
  
"There's only one problem with a car," I tell her as we rode down to the garage. "It's rush hour. We can move faster on foot."  
  
Victoria: The elevator glided smooth down, for the moment we were safe . It would take some time for the vampires to work there way down to the hidden garage. "Well then, if we have to fight. Down here is certainly better then up there amongst all the humans." I looked into his eyes. The danger had excited him, he thrived on it and his excitement awaken something long buried inside of me.  
  
Sands: I knew there was a reason I liked Victoria. Besides the obvious. I can't help but smile. I've been outnumbered before, but usually alone.  
  
"Do you know any way out of here?"  
  
Victoria: "When the doors open there will be a passage way to the right and a staircase that will lead us to the surface. It should put us behind the department store."  
  
Sands: I am ready for them, dripping wet from the rain, but ready. "You'd better take those shoes off if we're going to run."  
  
Victoria: I bend over and quickly unbuckle the small black straps and step out of the shoes. "I've known you for one day and yet I'm always loosing my clothes." I tease.  
  
Sands: I chuckle, then turn my attention back to the doors. The lights on the elevator indicate we're about to stop. My senses tell me we're getting further from those who pursue us.  
  
The moment the doors open, I'm out with Victoria right at my side. She pulls ahead to lead me toward the stairs. The parking valet must think we're nuts. At least he's half right.  
  
As soon as we're around the corner and out of sight of humans, we put on the steam. I hope there's no surveillance cameras down here to see how fast two vampires can really run.  
  
Victoria: Before a human can blink we're at the stairs. I stop and step aside. "You first, in case there's trouble on the surface. I'll watch your back." The two of us pound up the metal stairs.  
  
Sands: I can sense the others moving now. We practically fly up the stairs and I hit the door at a dead run, Victoria hot on my heels. The air is frigid and I'm glad that sort of thing doesn't bother me. The rain is starting to turn to sleet.  
  
"Listen," I say to her as we dash down the quickly darkening street. "If we get separated, go to the clan house. You'll be safe there."  
  
Victoria: "What about you? Will you meet me there?" I sense them coming but they are still far off.  
  
Sands: "That's the plan." It's pretty obvious that the only people on the street right now are the homeless and us. Almost everyone else is in a cab or the subway on their way home. That gives me an idea. I gesture towards the corner. Just around is a subway entrance.  
  
We dash around the corner. I look back. Four are less than 100 feet behind us. I don't know where the fifth one is. We aim for the subway stairs and fell bad for Victoria, having to run barefoot in this. It's slippery as hell out here now.  
  
Victoria: Oh god the subway! I hate the subway! Too many of the unwashed masses huddling together for my taste. But it's better than being dead. It's a good thing our kind can't feel the cold otherwise this would be unbearable. As it is, we'll attract stares once we're inside.  
  
We hit the stairs and fly down into the tunnel. They are so close. Hopefully the train will be waiting when we reach the platform.  
  
Sands: I don't usually take public transportation. Unless I'm really hungry and need a quick snack. At least I knew the basic layout of the subway and I knew something about needing a token to get down to the trains. I had no tokens. Pausing at a booth to buy one could prove.deadly. So I find myself encouraged to break the law. Such a little law, after all. And if we do this fast enough, the dick head guards won't even see us do it.  
  
"Fast now, darling," I urge Victoria, as we kick it into gear and I head for the turnstile.  
  
Victoria: I speed up, keeping pace with Sands. I look into his eyes and then to the turnstile he indicates with a nod of his head. I get the idea, "It's a good thing you bought me pants." We hit the turnstiles at a dead run , both of us leaping effortlessly over the barriers.  
  
Sands: We dash down the stairs now, and there's more people the lower we get. I sense some of our pursuers have given up the chase. There's only three now.  
  
Making it onto the platform, Victoria and I continue to run. I can hear a train coming towards us. Good, if we time this right, maybe we can trick these jerks onto the train and we can get off and cross over to the other side and head uptown.  
  
We slow down as we hear the clacking and grinding of the train's breaks. The moment the doors hiss open, Victoria and I are on. We keep moving forward through the cars. "Come on," I tell her, going toward the open doors.  
  
A heartbeat before the doors close, we jump out. As the train pulls away, I can see two of the Viscallies whiz by through the blur of windows. There is a third one here on the platform. Now I'm angry. It's his turn to run.  
  
Turning, I scan for him. The fuckmook is straining to see us, but he's easy to see. He towers over just about everyone else. "He's a bloody redwood!" I nudge Victoria. "Let's beat the crap out of him."  
  
Victoria: "After you," I step aside and wave him on with sweep of my hand. My eyes crackle.  
  
Sands: I thought was a pretty good fighter in my time. But gentlemen back then used swords. The C.I.A. taught me not only 14 different ways of killing a man bare handed, but with a little ingenuity I figured out how to turn at least 7 of those methods into ways to kill a vampire. The big trick is to disable your opponent.  
  
With a big lughead like this guy who probably weighs at least double what I weigh, the trick is leverage. Akido helps.  
  
I ran at him, making sure he saw me, not as fast as I can run. There were still too many humans on the platform for that and I knew they had surveillance cameras here.  
  
The redwood saw me and turned to grab at me. It was child's play to step to the side, grabbing his outstretched wrist, and swing it down and back and up behind the guy. I applied pressure to the nerves in the forearm and wrist as I twisted his arm up behind his back.  
  
"Fucking Abberline!" he hissed at me. He tried to turn and look back at me. This was his biggest mistake. He forgot about Victoria.  
  
Victoria: I rushed after Sands and towards the giant who had been trailing us. Sands seemed to easily incapacitate the ugly man. Then it was my turn. I hissed loudly as I stuck him across the face. My nails grinding into his flesh and across his eyes. He howled in pain as blood poured from his wound.  
  
Sands: I laugh out loud. This girl makes my day! I want to lick the blood, but the guys is still struggling, even though his arm must be practically numb from what I'm doing. "Go for it, baby!" I urge her on.  
  
Victoria: "Oh no, I'm leaving the death blow for you!" I said wildly. Then I struck him hard in the abdomen with my knee and upper thigh. He bounced back from the force of my blow.  
  
Sands: Fuck, the guy falls back on top of me and it's all I can do to get out of the way in time. Victoria looks like she's having fun. I jump as his flailing arm reaches for my angle, and jump with both feet, landing on his belly. His scream is nothing but air. I think we've only managed to make him mad, though. There's fire in the one eye still open.  
  
"I'll eat your brains," he growls.  
  
"With what?" I ask, aiming a booted foot at his mouth. He intercepts my foot and catches hold. Not good. He flips me up, but I turn in mid air to land on all fours. He's already getting up.  
  
Victoria: I lunge at the enemy, knocking him back onto the ground. Bitch!" he yells. Quickly I'm back on my feet crouching like a cat. I lunge forward again. Raking his face with my claws. He throws me off and I land hard on my back.  
  
Sands: I leap to my feet and kick again at his head. This time my foot hits with jarring hardness. There's the welcoming sound of broken bones and he's make a screeching noise now through broken teeth and nose. I dance backward, looking at Victoria. "You okay?"  
  
Victoria: I stretch out a hand forward looking for help in getting up. "Yes, I'm all right." But there's a gash in my forearm that I notice once my arms extended. An angry growl comes from the back of my throat. "Is he dead yet?" I ask in a hostile tone.  
  
Sands: I don't think Victoria's done much street fighting. Maybe she's never killed another vampire. "He's a long way from dead, unless you have an axe handy." I turn to kick the guy again. The hand that had been covering his injured eye falls limply to the ground. "We can't exactly kill him with all these witnesses. We'd have to take his head to do it."  
  
I bend down and smell this guy. I want to remember his scent. I look up. People are starring in horror at what we've done to this fuckhead. "He raped my girlfriend," I shout at them. They look appropriately appalled.  
  
Victoria: "Someone, call the police!" A voice shouts from the crowd.  
  
Some of the human are beginning to inch their way forward to get a better look. "What are you doing?" I ask as he smells the body. "I think we'd better get out of here."  
  
Sands: She's right, of course. I take just a moment to taste him. Now I'll remember him. Then I'm up, grabbing her hand, and we're running down the platform. Already I can hear another train rumbling in from the opposite direction. If we hurry, we can go under the tracks and come up on the platform on the other side. To be continued. 


	12. Sands and Victoria Afternoon 3 part 3

Sands and Victoria Afternoon 3 part 3  
  
Sands: Victoria is still up for it, despite the fact the guy raked her pretty good. We gain the platform just before the train has closed its door and we scramble to get in. As the doors shut, we press together in the crowd and I'm trying not to giggle hysterically. I haven't had this much fun in a while. I stare into Victoria's eyes. "He cut you."  
  
Victoria: "Just a little, " I say quietly as I raise my arm between us to get a better look at the wound. "That was interesting. Do that often?" I ask. "The wound's not too bad, he just caught me the right way. " I lower my arm but the crowd of people pushes us closer together. I look up in his eyes. "I haven't been in a fight like that before, not with our kind I mean." He's staring at me. The thrill of the fight mixed with the smell of my blood must be exciting him.  
  
Sands: All right, Sands, settle down. You can't throw her to the floor and make love to her here. I smile. "We still have to figure out why we are being followed."  
  
Victoria: "Yes, that would be a good idea." I rub my hands against him. "Let's get off at the next stop, my home is not far from there, and I think I could use another shower and a drink." I'm such a mess, while he on the other hand looks wonderful. Like a model from one of those fashion magazines, purposely rumpled.  
  
Sands: I'm glad alcohol and drugs work for us. Where would I be without them? But survival before pleasure. "I think we should pick up some shoes," I glance purposefully at her feet, "then go to Abberline House. They might know what's going on with the Viscalli bastards." My voice is low so only another vampire in close proximity can hear me. "They might be making moves against others of our clan."  
  
Victoria: I sigh heavily, "All right, that's probably a wise idea. Although," I point at his chest, "for the record, you know I'm not fond of clan houses and if I have to go, I'd rather be looking my best. I don't want to give the old biddies anything to gossip about." The subway screeches to a halt and the doors slide open. The crowd surges out.  
  
Sands: I grab Victoria's hand and we merge in with the masses. I can smell them and I'm glad I ate well last night. I usually only eat every fourth or fifth day. The older we get, the less we need. That doesn't mean I don't enjoy feeding. There's a deeply satisfying pleasure in it, whether I'm hungry or not. I can still taste the blood of that giant vampire from the last platform.  
  
Victoria leads. I follow. We're playing the part of young people in love. Only, we're not young and it's more like lust at this point. I don't know if I've ever been in love. Well. Once. But love tends to hurt too much. And look what happened when I started to soften up with Ajedrez. Fuck it. I'll settle for the joys of the flesh and leave all the sappy stuff to the poets.  
  
We're up on the streets. No sign of our shadows. I think we lost them. She leads us up and over and up again to the door of a fancy high-rise, much newer than my building.  
  
Victoria: I slide a card in an electronic slot and the chrome doors slide open. I lead him to a row of elevators and we stand and wait for the cars to come down. An older couple walks up and looks at the two of us in a disapproving manner. I don't even acknowledge them, then coolly before the doors slide open I turn and look the man in the eyes. Nervously he tells his wife that they'll wait for the next car. I smile and Sands and I walk into the elevator.  
  
It's all modern here. I don't really care for it that much. But it's new, secure and one of the best in town, I think it was built by the Donald Trump fellow. I prefer a touch of the old myself. The warmth of rich woods and the cool touch of marble.  
  
The elevator quickly spirits us to the top floors. Not quite the penthouse but close enough. We exit, mine is the only apartment on this floor. The doors are straight ahead, I giggle to myself. wait until he sees the inside. It'll be a shock after all this modern metal and glass.  
  
Sands: This building doesn't seem to match Victoria. She's all Old World and brightness. This place is cold and modern. There's an older couple at the elevators. They look at us with little scowls. I'd like to bite the guys' nose off the way he's looking at Victoria. So we're wet. Big fucking deal. So she's barefoot. I find it hard not to smile now.  
  
The elevator comes and the old folks let us go. Old folks. What a joke. I'm hundreds of years older than them. It gets funnier as we ride up.  
  
We get off somewhere on the 39th floor and I follow Victoria, watching, listening. No other vampires near us. She's opening the door. I watch.  
  
Victoria: The key card opens the door with a flash of light and a buzz. I push open the door and motion for him to proceed. "After you," I sing. Once he's in I shut the door and activate the locks. I lean against the door and watch. "Go on," I urge.  
  
The are two heavy velvet curtains framing the entrance, they're drawn now. Sands steps forward and moves one to the side. The floors are wooden and covered with Persian carpets, brightly colored and tasseled at the ends. The furniture is a mixture of styles, some from my time and some from the era of Queen Victoria. There are rich oil paints on the walls and huge arrangements of flower in Chinese vases. Tiffany stain glass lamps illuminate the room filling it with a soft glow. A large iron stair case wraps around the room reveling a series of doors on the landing. The room is off set by a row of French doors which give way to a balcony of tremendous size with one of those views New Yorkers would kill for. "Do you like It?" I ask.  
  
Sands: "Impressive," I tell her. I am drawn to the paintings. Artistic jealousy and all that. "You didn't tell me you were a collector. Do you collect more than art?" I amuse myself by wondering if she has a room full of men ready to answer to her every need. I'd have to kill them all, of course.  
  
Victoria: I smirk. "A few things." I walk across the room. "Make yourself comfortable. The kitchen is through that door under the stairs."  
  
I take off my coat and hang it in a closet near the entrance. I'll have to have it cleaned. "I'm going to go up and take a quick shower and change. But please feel free to look around. I have a library upstairs, the last door there." I begin to walk up to the second floor and stop just in front of my bedroom door. "It's not as good as yours, though." I smile and disappear.  
  
Entering my bedroom I slip out of my clothes and lay them carefully on the bed. I cross into my bathroom, which beside the kitchen is the only modern room in the house. Some things can't be avoided. I twist up my hair and slip into the shower. I can hear him moving about the apartment. I wonder what he's looking at.  
  
Sands: I still feel restless. I move to the window and look out. It's snowing full out now. I can't even see to the street below. Nothing but gray out there. Turning, I follow her instructions to the library. It's not just a library. There's piano. I sit down and tinker a bit, then launch into a little jazzy blues that matches the weather, all dark and gloomy and full of pain, even without the words. It's a nice piano, and the acoustics in her place are good with all the wood.  
  
Victoria: The sounds of the piano lilt through the house. I smile. He's very talented; art, music. I like him and I don't like many of our kind at all, although he's not the type to stick around. I can see that, so I should not let myself get too attached. Just have fun, it's hard to find things that are fun to do after you've lived for 200 years. Things kind of melt together.  
  
I step out of the shower and dry off. I hum along with the melody he's playing. I don't think I've heard it before, but I seem to know the song. I walk back into my bedroom and pull out a set of lacy black underware and matching bra. Victoria's Secrets. I love that name. If they only knew the secrets I've got hidden beneath their product.  
  
I go to the closet and pull out a set of black leather boots, they'll go well with the outfit Sands has provided.  
  
Sands: I can hear her moving around I her bedroom and I restrain from going to join her before she can get dressed. We have work to do first.  
  
Thinking of what she and I will do later, my mood and music change. She did say she likes to dance. I wonder where we'll end up.  
  
Victoria: I sit down at my vanity and begin to apply makeup. I know I don't need it, but that's what women do, they always strive for perfection. I put on just enough to bring out my features and then run a brush through my hair. I decide to braid it tonight. One long thick braid. I run a black, silky ribbon through it.  
  
Soon I'm once again dressed in the outfit that Sands bought for me. With the addition of Prada boots. I'm ready to go. I stop and look in the mirror before heading to the library. I' m still humming.  
  
Sands: Thinking about tonight, I also am forced to think about going to Abberline House. I wonder if there's a way for me to isolate Victoria so she doesn't talk to anyone except maybe Salvator or some of the Guardians. Those socialites, and in my world that's an insult, are bound to start filling her in on my history. All from their twisted point of view. I get angry just thinking about them.  
  
My playing comes to an abrupt halt. I'm getting antsy now. I want to get moving. I want a drink, too, but it's best to have all my wits just in case there's a few of the Viscallies waiting for us when we leave.  
  
Victoria: I enter the room, "Why did you stop playing?" I ask one hand on my hip one leg slightly extended. "It was beautiful."  
  
Sands: I'm confused. She's snapped me out of my ruminations and I'm no longer sure if I'm angry or horny. Horny. She looks mighty fine in those black leather pants. And those lips. They're so full. I know people these days inject crap into their lips to get that look.  
  
Standing, I move over to her and put my hands on her hips. "You're in danger of being ravished looking this good," I tell her.  
  
Victoria: I smile and push him away, "I though we had places to go?" I tease, although I'd love to thrown him down on the floor and straddle him right now. "Did you want to go to clan house now, or can we go there later?" I take him by the hand and lead him down the stairs into the living room. "I have tickets to the art show, and I think you said something about dancing. Both sound better then and evening of scrutiny."  
  
Sands: "I think we'll live longer if we swallow the evening of scrutiny," I shrug. "It won't take long. We'll talk to the Guardians, fill them in." I think a moment. "You have a car?"  
  
Victoria: I nod and go to the phone. I dial the garage. "Julio, this is Miss Dupree. Yes, I'd like the car. Five minutes, Thank you." I put the receiver down.  
  
Sands moved up beside me. "Could you get me a coat please, the black one behind the fur. I have a message here on the machine I need to check." Sands nods and steps away. I press that annoying little blinking red light.  
  
The tape rewinds and then plays. "Victoria, this is Georgio. We didn't hear from you last night. Is everything all right? Are you coming to the opening tonight? Would you like me to come around and get you? Call me - kiss, kiss." My hand went to my lips to cover a smile. I erased the message. I know Sands heard that, I wonder if he's jealous?  
  
Sands: She has a lot of fur coats. I think PETA could use her place for a rally point. She did say black. Oh, it's not fur. This is a heavy wool coat. Very stylish. Long. I pull it off the hanger and flip it over my arm. I can hear the message machine playing from some prick named Gerogio. Sounds gay.  
  
I come up behind her and help her into her coat. "Ready?"  
  
Victoria: "Yes." I let him help me slip into my coat. "Oh wait, I need to get a few things." I go to a table across the room and slide open a drawer. I pull out a few hundred dollars and slip it into the pocket of my leather pants. I return to Sands' side. Just before we exit I stop him. "Sands?" I run my fingers along the collar of his coat. "What's your real name?"  
  
Sands: I think my mouth hung open there for a moment like a dead fish's. "My real name is Sands," I tell her. "Sheldon Jeffrey Sands. Esquire once upon a time. It's no secret. I just prefer Sands."  
  
Victoria: "Alright that's all I wanted to know," we exit and take a different elevator to the garage. Julio is waiting for us with the car. It's a sliver Mercedes Benz. I smile at Sands. "You drive." And I cross to the other side. Julio scrambles to open the door for me. "Thank you," I reply.  
  
Sands: Okay, this is better. I get into the car, glad the upholstery is leather so my wetness won't ruin anything." The heater is already going and I'll be almost dry by the time we reach the house.  
  
She directs me and we exit the garage. Windshield wipers keep up a rhythmic skisk-skisk across the glass. I turn the lights on and we head north.  
  
The drive from her house would normally be less than twenty minutes, but it's still time for the masses to be rushing home from work, so it takes us almost forty-five minutes until the beams of the headlights illuminate the massive wrought-iron gates.  
  
There's an electronic box set on a stick. I press the call button there and wave up at the camera that is focused down on us. "It's Sands and a friend," I say into the box.  
  
The doors silently swing open and we drive in. Abberline house has a very long driveway. There are lots of trees on the grounds and a high wall and hedges, all engineered to keep the comings and goings as private as possible.  
  
The driveway turns in front of the mansion, which is made of a gold-tone stone. The lights are on, making it look like a treasure box. I pull the Mercedes up to one of the open spots and we get out. I leave the keys in the ignition. No one steals cars from our clan house.  
  
I can tell Victoria is a little nervous. She loops her arm through mine as we walk up the steps and one of the hopefuls opens the doors.  
  
Victoria: It is lovely inside and really screams of money. The floors of the entry are black and white checkered marble and a few stairs descend into a sunken foyer. An ornate mahogany staircase rises to the second level on both sides of the room. Large iron candelabras hang from the ceiling. There are a lot of people here tonight and they all turn to see who approaches.  
  
Sands: It's show time.  
  
To be continued. 


	13. Sands and Victoria Evening 3 part 1

Sands & Victoria Evening 3 part 1  
  
Sands: This place is filled with vultures. I can sense them all right beyond the mahogany doors. I look at Victoria, about to warn her about those she'll soon be meeting. Before I can, the doors open and one of the house guests comes out. It's a woman I don't know, dressed like all those beyond the doorway in expensive evening wear. She pauses when she sees us and makes a sort of gasping noise.  
  
Victoria: "Good evening," I say politely and I incline my head a bit. Then I cast a glance in Sands' direction. He's been here before and perhaps I can get a clue of what to expect. There are a lot of our kind inside, I can sense so many, it is almost overwhelming.  
  
Sands: Well, Victoria is taking this well. The stranger, however, looks like she just ate a frog. She turns to re-enter the ball room, but Andre is there. My rescuer. He looks just as he's always looked, handsome, dark, a hint of mischief in his eyes. He holds out a hand and comes towards me saying, "Sheldon, you've been away too long."  
  
He does the European kiss in the air on both sides of my face. From Andre, it's all right. I'd knife anyone else who tried that shit.  
  
"Victoria, may I present Andre Salvatore. If his face looks a little familiar, it should. Andre, this is Victoria Dupree."  
  
Victoria: I smile graciously and hold out my hand to him. "Yes, I recognize you from your ads in Elle and Vogue." He's very handsome. "But I did not realize that you were one of our kind, I'm pleasantly surprised."  
  
Sands: Andre gets this a lot, but he soaks it up just like a kitten with milk. He takes Victoria's hand and kisses it, his eyes locking with hers. Straightening he turns to me. "How's my brother?" he asks me.  
  
"Full of shit, like always," I say to him blandly. Then I remember why we're there. I usually go in through one of the tunnels to avoid the crowd of socialites - like the crowd staring at us from the room beyond right now.  
  
Laughing, Andre shakes his head. "Not shit," he says moving closer. He touches my hair. "What are you putting on your hair. It looks terrible."  
  
"Rain water," I admit. "Listen, Andre, something strange is going down." I look at Victoria to back me up in this. "We were chased by five Viscalli this evening."  
  
Victoria: Quietly I watch this interaction between two old friends. It's nice to see this side of him. Many of the others are circling about trying to get a closer look at me. I know it, and I'd gladly match them glare for glare, especially in that new Versace dress I just picked up, but not now. I step forward at Sands' urging. "He and I were headed down Park Avenue when they swarmed. I think one of them was there the last night. I thought I felt something watching us."  
  
Sands: She didn't tell me this before. "I felt something earlier today, too, when I went out for . well nevermind."  
  
Andre nods. "The Viscalli are getting too bold. Have you talked to Quinn about this?"  
  
"No, we just arrived," I tell him. Now there's at least a dozen of the vultures circling around us. I don't know if they want to get a look at Victoria or the vampire who grew new eyes.  
  
I look around and spot Cerese. She raises a brow and descends like a dark cloud. "Hello, Sands. I thought they said you died in Mexico."  
  
"Sorry to disappoint," I shrug.  
  
Victoria: I don't like the look of Cerese. I interlace my finger tips and watch carefully. You can never tell with our kind who will be friend and who will be foe. It's better to be on the defensive. But I keep my pleasant smile waiting and watching.  
  
Sands: Cerese's expression makes her look like she's ready to eat something. "Oh, Sands, you never disappoint." She's now staring at Victoria with something akin to acid in her glare.  
  
"Victoria, this is Cerese." I feel compelled to introduce them. "She doesn't bite. Often."  
  
Victoria: Does he mean me or her I wonder. "Good evening," I reply. I've met her type before, some things don't change over time. I wonder if Sands has had an intimate relationship with her, I know she's wondering the same about me. They all are. You can see it in their eyes.  
  
Sands: I feel the sudden need to move closer to Victoria, to protect her from the vultures. Andre is still frowning.  
  
"I think you should go see Quinn," Andre says thoughtfully. "Now."  
  
I nod. He reaches out a bent arm towards Victoria. "While my brother attends to business, may I show you around."  
  
I grind my teeth, but realize it's probably better if Victoria doesn't have any dealings with the Guardians tonight. She's been through enough.  
  
"Take care of her," I tell Andre. I turn to Victoria. "You can trust Andre," I tell her.  
  
Andre leans closer. "Yes, you can trust me." He bats those overly long eyelashes of his and if he wasn't as gay as the night is long I'd grab Victoria back.  
  
Victoria: I smile for Sands and then gratefully take Andre's arm. His old world manners are comforting. He slowly leads me away. I glance over my shoulder as Sands disappears down a passage way. I hope he is not gone too long. I flutter my eyes lashes and begin the game. We used to play it at cotillions and dinner parties. But the new age brought in new manners and in this day and age one needn't be polite. But this is clan and appearances are everything.  
  
I lean a little closer to Andre and whisper playfully. "Brothers?" He casually takes me sailing past Cerese who bears her fangs.  
  
Andre: I have Sheldon's newest toy on my arm and she's delightful. "We call ourselves brothers. We both love swords. Not foils, swords. Actually, Sheldon has adapted to other weapons, but I still prefer swords. I have been in so many duels, I lost count." I smile down at Victoria. "And you, my dear, how did you meet Sheldon and what do you know about him?"  
  
Victoria: I smirk deciding what to tell him. "I met him at the opera, La Traviotta." Slowly we walk through the room of the beautiful and dangerous. "I know he paints, I know he plays the piano, and I know he's a good man to have around in a fight."  
  
Andre: I laugh. "Yes, he's good to have around in a fight, as long as he's on your side." I shake my head and look up to see Edward Kells blocking our way. "Edward," I acknowledge his presence.  
  
"Andre, I heard Sands was back." He smiles briefly at Victoria. "Hello," he says to her.  
  
Victoria: Edward is a large man, broad shouldered and ruggedly handsome. I nod politely, but keep my hands on Andre's arm. He's not really interested in me, it's clear that he wants to know more about Sands' arrival.  
  
Andre: Obviously Edward is fishing. I smile. "Victoria, may I introduce Edward Kells. He looks and sounds one-hundred per cent American, but I can assure you he's as Irish as they come, despite his black hair."  
  
Victoria: For a brief moment my eyes narrow. Irish, black Irish! He might know Connor. "Hello Edward," I reply. I allow my accent to roll off my tongue.  
  
Andre: I watch the exchange. She's calculating. Edward is interested. He is now actually looking at her. "Charmed, Victoria. So you are the lovely woman who came with Sands? His taste in women hasn't faded." He leaned in close to her. "I hear he's blind."  
  
"Edward, is that a question or an insult?" I ask. "He's not blind anymore. It was temporary," I assure him, looking at Victoria to see how she's taking this.  
  
Victoria: He's forward, but then again most Americans are. I don't care for him at all, but still I smile. I lean forward mirroring Edwards actions. "Do you always ask ladies such questions?"  
  
Andre: "Victoria, don't waste your breath," I tell her. "Edward is a Celt and he says whatever is floating to the top of that dark mind of his."  
  
To Be Continued  
  
Sands & Victoria Evening 3 part 1 "Well, it was quite the news," Edward says. "And so dramatic. I hear the coup d'etat didn't succeed because of him."  
  
I exhale for effect. "Sands is here, Edward, if you're so interested, you just run off and find him. I'd love to hear you ask him these questions." Yes. Sands would rip his lips off.  
  
I tug on Victoria's arm. "What to see our library?"  
  
Victoria: "I'd love to, " I say to him with a smile. "I'm sure the company would be greatly improved."  
  
Edwards eyes flash and Andre quickens his step.  
  
"Is everyone here so distasteful?" I ask. I already know the answer. Yes they are. The young ones are crude and have no respect and the old ones expect you to quake as they pass by. Everyone is always trying to trump each other. It's all so tiring.  
  
Andre: "To tell you the truth, there are a few interesting people, but they're all in the basement and they're much too serious for me." I lead her up the stairs. She moves like a dancer. "Here," I gesture to the right side of the landing and lead her into the library. "This is the part opened to everyone. They have more libraries for serious researchers."  
  
Victoria: "Serious researchers?" I question as I look around the room. "Much too serious for you? What to you do for distraction then?" I'm eager to hear the answer.  
  
Andre: "Me, I dabble in the stock market but I actually do spend a lot of time with my business." I cock my head to the side. "I love hair. Of course, eventually people will notice I'm not getting older, and I'll have to sell. I already have several people interested in buying it."  
  
Victoria: "Why don't you pretend to have family, pass it along to an heir?" I ask casually. There are some large leather chairs scattered about the room. I motion for us to sit. Once we are situated a small group enters the library. I look them over and glance quickly at Andre. It Cerese and she's brought company. Two other female vampires equally distasteful. This could be trouble.  
  
Andre: Here's Cerese and two of her buddies. Sharks each one. She circles closer and comes to stand in front of Victoria.  
  
"So, tell me, how long have you known Sands?" Cerese asks Victoria.  
  
Victoria: "Long enough," I reply with a dismissive glance and a smile. "Why does the length of my associate concern you?" I tense my body ready for what might come.  
  
Andre: Cerese gives one of her practice laughs. "Well, my dear, the longer you know the psychobeauty, the more you realize why he usually stays away from the rest of us." She looks at me. "Even his best friends."  
  
Victoria: "Psychobeauty?" I question. "What is that supposed to mean?" He stays away from the rest of you because you're annoying as hell I think to myself.  
  
Andre: Oh, now I can feel it coming. Cerese was just waiting for a chance to release her venom, so I speak before she can.  
  
"Sheldon has had some problems in the past. Haven't we all?" I look around at them.  
  
Cerese crosses her arms. "We don't go around killing anything that moves, Andre. We're selective, at least. Sands likes to kill."  
  
Victoria: I lean forward a little more, here's my chance. "We're vampires, killing is what we do."  
  
Andre: I wonder where Victoria has been. Cerese has her claws out now. "No, dear," she says in a soft voice to Victoria. "We don't just kill. We feed. We kill to protect ourselves. But Sands kills for pleasure. Friend, foe, it doesn't matter much to him."  
  
Victoria: I run my hands down the legs of my leather pants. I don't like what I've heard, but I don't like to be threatened either. And this lady is working hard to shake me up. In my day we were taught to hold it all in, well some times it's better to let it out. "I can see why he might enjoy killing some people." I smile, fangs bared.  
  
Andre: "Cerese, you're just full of old news tonight," I tell her in my boast bored tone. "This is Victoria Dupree. She knows everything about Sands. Your attempts at juicy gossip are rather dried up, love."  
  
Victoria: I cast a glance over to Andre. He's very good at this, at intrigue. I can't help but smile. But she has struck a cord deep inside and given me a few things to think about. I turn my attention back to Cerese. "Yes, Andre is correct. You'll find no gossip here with me. I'm afraid my lips are sealed."  
  
Andre: I study Victoria. She is quite the beauty and looks athletic, too. Maybe she's a dancer. Certainly she'd be a danger to Cerese, whose only exercise is flapping her lips. Let her talk about my brother all she wants, poisoned tongue bitch. She's just bitter because he never found her interesting enough to court.  
  
I lean closer to Victoria. "Have you ever modeled?" I touch her shining hair.  
  
Victoria: "No, I haven't." I reply quietly. "Although I once had my portrait painted, but that was a long time ago."  
  
Andre: I wet my lips. I would love to follow Victoria and Sheldon into the bedroom. I wonder if she'd be interested in a three-way. Her words jar me from my fantasy. Is she so innocent then? "You have not been in New York before?"  
  
Victoria: I lean back into the chair and look into his eyes. You can tell lot about a person through their eyes. "Not for a very long time. But tell me more about you and your brother. How did you meet?" I am curious and do like to gossip, just not with vamps like Cerese.  
  
Andre:  
  
Her question brings a smile to my lips. "Sheldon and I met in Spain, where I lived at the time, before the Napoleonic wars. He and I were at a.gentleman's club. He was the foreigner, you understand, so most of the club's members didn't trust him. Only I realized he was a member of the brotherhood."  
  
She would know nothing of the strict rules of society in Spain at that time, of the separation of classes, and the snobbery of the rich upper classes. Everyone else was an outsider, and an Englishman was even more suspect.  
  
Victoria: "We're about the same age then." I glance around the room as a few more persons float around. "How long do you think Sands will be, with . . . Quinn was it?"  
  
Andre: Again, she makes me smile. "I had been a member of the brotherhood since long before Sheldon joined our ranks, my dear." I look at the women who came with Cerese. They are hovering nearby, waiting for someone to die perhaps.  
  
"He has some business." I shrug. "It may take him a while. Do you know what he's talking to Quinn about?"  
  
Victoria: I made him smile. That's good, perhaps he'll trust me more easily. I look to see who might be eaves dropping and then lean in closer to Andre. I motion him to come closer. I lower my voice to a whisper. "He and I were ambushed today on Park Avenue by 5 members of the Viscalli."  
  
Andre: Her words shock me. "You have no doubt about this?" She shakes her head. I take her arm and she stands. We walk off, not too fast, until we can get away from Cerese and her clutch. "Why would they attack you, Victoria?" I ask. Could she have some feud with Viscalli clan?  
  
Victoria: I shake my head, "I don't have any idea why. I haven't been around our kind very much. My sire kept me, . . . separated. I wasn't even aware that problems existed." I look at him with my large green eyes.  
  
Andre: Fascinating, but why would they target my dear Sheldon? I am thoughtful. "Maybe it's another war," I say softly.  
  
To Be Continued 


	14. Sands and Victoria Evening 3 part 2

Sands & Victoria Evening 3 part 2 "Well, it was quite the news," Edward says. "And so dramatic. I hear the coup d'etat didn't succeed because of him."  
  
I exhale for effect. "Sands is here, Edward, if you're so interested, you just run off and find him. I'd love to hear you ask him these questions." Yes. Sands would rip his lips off.  
  
I tug on Victoria's arm. "What to see our library?"  
  
Victoria: "I'd love to, " I say to him with a smile. "I'm sure the company would be greatly improved."  
  
Edwards eyes flash and Andre quickens his step.  
  
"Is everyone here so distasteful?" I ask. I already know the answer. Yes they are. The young ones are crude and have no respect and the old ones expect you to quake as they pass by. Everyone is always trying to trump each other. It's all so tiring.  
  
Andre: "To tell you the truth, there are a few interesting people, but they're all in the basement and they're much too serious for me." I lead her up the stairs. She moves like a dancer. "Here," I gesture to the right side of the landing and lead her into the library. "This is the part opened to everyone. They have more libraries for serious researchers."  
  
Victoria: "Serious researchers?" I question as I look around the room. "Much too serious for you? What to you do for distraction then?" I'm eager to hear the answer.  
  
Andre: "Me, I dabble in the stock market but I actually do spend a lot of time with my business." I cock my head to the side. "I love hair. Of course, eventually people will notice I'm not getting older, and I'll have to sell. I already have several people interested in buying it."  
  
Victoria: "Why don't you pretend to have family, pass it along to an heir?" I ask casually. There are some large leather chairs scattered about the room. I motion for us to sit. Once we are situated a small group enters the library. I look them over and glance quickly at Andre. It Cerese and she's brought company. Two other female vampires equally distasteful. This could be trouble.  
  
Andre: Here's Cerese and two of her buddies. Sharks each one. She circles closer and comes to stand in front of Victoria.  
  
"So, tell me, how long have you known Sands?" Cerese asks Victoria.  
  
Victoria: "Long enough," I reply with a dismissive glance and a smile. "Why does the length of my associate concern you?" I tense my body ready for what might come.  
  
Andre: Cerese gives one of her practice laughs. "Well, my dear, the longer you know the psychobeauty, the more you realize why he usually stays away from the rest of us." She looks at me. "Even his best friends."  
  
Victoria: "Psychobeauty?" I question. "What is that supposed to mean?" He stays away from the rest of you because you're annoying as hell I think to myself.  
  
Andre: Oh, now I can feel it coming. Cerese was just waiting for a chance to release her venom, so I speak before she can.  
  
"Sheldon has had some problems in the past. Haven't we all?" I look around at them.  
  
Cerese crosses her arms. "We don't go around killing anything that moves, Andre. We're selective, at least. Sands likes to kill."  
  
Victoria: I lean forward a little more, here's my chance. "We're vampires, killing is what we do."  
  
Andre: I wonder where Victoria has been. Cerese has her claws out now. "No, dear," she says in a soft voice to Victoria. "We don't just kill. We feed. We kill to protect ourselves. But Sands kills for pleasure. Friend, foe, it doesn't matter much to him."  
  
Victoria: I run my hands down the legs of my leather pants. I don't like what I've heard, but I don't like to be threatened either. And this lady is working hard to shake me up. In my day we were taught to hold it all in, well some times it's better to let it out. "I can see why he might enjoy killing some people." I smile, fangs bared.  
  
Andre: "Cerese, you're just full of old news tonight," I tell her in my boast bored tone. "This is Victoria Dupree. She knows everything about Sands. Your attempts at juicy gossip are rather dried up, love."  
  
Victoria: I cast a glance over to Andre. He's very good at this, at intrigue. I can't help but smile. But she has struck a cord deep inside and given me a few things to think about. I turn my attention back to Cerese. "Yes, Andre is correct. You'll find no gossip here with me. I'm afraid my lips are sealed."  
  
Andre: I study Victoria. She is quite the beauty and looks athletic, too. Maybe she's a dancer. Certainly she'd be a danger to Cerese, whose only exercise is flapping her lips. Let her talk about my brother all she wants, poisoned tongue bitch. She's just bitter because he never found her interesting enough to court.  
  
I lean closer to Victoria. "Have you ever modeled?" I touch her shining hair.  
  
Victoria: "No, I haven't." I reply quietly. "Although I once had my portrait painted, but that was a long time ago."  
  
Andre: I wet my lips. I would love to follow Victoria and Sheldon into the bedroom. I wonder if she'd be interested in a three-way. Her words jar me from my fantasy. Is she so innocent then? "You have not been in New York before?"  
  
Victoria: I lean back into the chair and look into his eyes. You can tell lot about a person through their eyes. "Not for a very long time. But tell me more about you and your brother. How did you meet?" I am curious and do like to gossip, just not with vamps like Cerese.  
  
Andre:  
  
Her question brings a smile to my lips. "Sheldon and I met in Spain, where I lived at the time, before the Napoleonic wars. He and I were at a.gentleman's club. He was the foreigner, you understand, so most of the club's members didn't trust him. Only I realized he was a member of the brotherhood."  
  
She would know nothing of the strict rules of society in Spain at that time, of the separation of classes, and the snobbery of the rich upper classes. Everyone else was an outsider, and an Englishman was even more suspect.  
  
Victoria: "We're about the same age then." I glance around the room as a few more persons float around. "How long do you think Sands will be, with . . . Quinn was it?"  
  
Andre: Again, she makes me smile. "I had been a member of the brotherhood since long before Sheldon joined our ranks, my dear." I look at the women who came with Cerese. They are hovering nearby, waiting for someone to die perhaps.  
  
"He has some business." I shrug. "It may take him a while. Do you know what he's talking to Quinn about?"  
  
Victoria: I made him smile. That's good, perhaps he'll trust me more easily. I look to see who might be eaves dropping and then lean in closer to Andre. I motion him to come closer. I lower my voice to a whisper. "He and I were ambushed today on Park Avenue by 5 members of the Viscalli."  
  
Andre: Her words shock me. "You have no doubt about this?" She shakes her head. I take her arm and she stands. We walk off, not too fast, until we can get away from Cerese and her clutch. "Why would they attack you, Victoria?" I ask. Could she have some feud with Viscalli clan?  
  
Victoria: I shake my head, "I don't have any idea why. I haven't been around our kind very much. My sire kept me, . . . separated. I wasn't even aware that problems existed." I look at him with my large green eyes.  
  
Andre: Fascinating, but why would they target my dear Sheldon? I am thoughtful. "Maybe it's another war," I say softly.  
  
To Be Continued 


	15. Sands and Victoria Evening 3 part 3

Sands and Victoria Evening 3 part 3 Victoria: He's leading me around the house and as we speak softly. I am keenly aware that we are being watched. The clan house is very beautiful with its marbled floors and plaster walls. It's supposed to be a haven for our kind, but I am uncomfortable here. Andre seems kind and appears to be a genuine friend to Sands, but I hope he returns soon. "Another war?" I ask snapping out of my private thoughts. "When was the last?"  
  
Andre: "More than a thousand years ago," I tell her. "Sands is the history aficionado. You should ask him about it." We pause at the end of the walkway where the hall gives way to a balcony overlooking the main ballroom. "Before you, my dear, is the cream of vampire society on the East Coast. But below, in the bowels of this sprawling mansion, are the Guardians. They are the strength of us." I look at her. She is almost as tall as I. "And you must wonder, where are the brains? Well, you see, we have leaders, but they do not mingle with the rest of us for the most part."  
  
Victoria: I look at the crowd of vampires below us. Lovely. Like dolls, well groomed and elegant. Some more so than others. "Is Sands a Guardian?" I ask as I lean against the balcony my hair falling to one side ."And who is the leader here, of this house?" I am learning so much. My blood boils as I think of how little I actually know. Another reason to despise Connor McCloud.  
  
Andre: "I don't think the question about Sheldon should be directed to me. Ask him about himself. As to the leader, why we have two: Lilith and Abberline."  
  
Victoria: "I'm sorry, did I offend you with my questioning?" I touch his forearm gently with my hand. Andre is a good friend to Sands he doesn't give away all his secrets.  
  
Andre: "Offend?" I have to laugh, "My skin is tougher than that, my dear. Who is your sire that you know nothing of us, if you don't mind me asking?"  
  
Victoria: I blink hard unsure of what to say. I have spent so much time in hiding that the words do not come easily. Yet, for Sands they dripped off my tongue like honey. "A very distasteful Scot, of whom I do my best to avoid. It would go rather badly for me if he were to find me again." I smile weakly.  
  
Andre: "If Sands is on your side, then I am on your side," I assure her, "and there's not many who would lift a hand against either one of us." I think about what she said earlier. "Which makes it all the more disturbing if the Viscalli actually attacked you today. There must have been several of them." I'm hoping she'll tell me the details. Maybe I should see Quinn, too. I came unarmed, except for my sword, and that is upstairs in my guest room.  
  
Victoria: I smile again, he's an easy person to like. "Thank you, that is reassuring." I look again at the crowds below, chatting, laughing, drinking from Baccarat stem ware. "Sands and I met at the opera. While he and I were walking to is apartment, both of us thought that we sensed someone watching us, although neither of us mentioned it at the time." A smirk appears on the corner of my lips as I think of last night. "This afternoon, when he and I were making our way down Park Avenue to my apartment, is when the trouble began. First it was only one, then three, then five."  
  
Andre: This news sends a cold shiver of apprehension down my spine. "Perhaps we should arm ourselves." I purse my lips thinking about this. "What is your weapon of choice, Victoria?"  
  
Victoria: "I don't have one. When I was alive I had four large brothers to fight my battles for me. " I turn and rest my buttocks against the banister and cross my arms. "I am however a very fast leaner, any suggestion for a southern lady?" I ask slyly.  
  
Andre: "It's usually easier for women to learn firearms," I told her. "They have the advantage of coming in several sizes, and they can hit a target from a great distance. My preference is the sword. I've never much liked guns. They're loud and there's no beauty in them." I look her in the eye. "I am a worshipper of beauty."  
  
Victoria: I laugh. "Yes, you've built a rather successful empire around that notion."  
  
Andre: Before I can respond to Victoria, I sense him. Sheldon. He enters the ballroom below us, creating an instant sensation of silence. He's looking for us. I'm reluctant to call out to him. I'd rather watch him, one of my favorite past times. He has a way of effecting those around him.  
  
The people become aware of the disturbance in their midst. They turn in pairs and small groups to join me in watching him. Only Abberline and Lilith have more of an effect.  
  
"What?" Sheldon asks. He is scanning. I'm bad, not calling out to him. Then he senses us, somehow, and his eyes raise to meet at first mine, then Victoria's.  
  
Victoria: Something distracts Andre's attention and the room grows silent. I become aware of the silence and turn to look at those below us. It's Sands. He is beautiful. He look up and spots the two of us. My arms are folded across my chest. When his eyes find me, I feel that spark shoot through my body. I feel a little more at ease knowing he has returned. I smile for him and wait.  
  
Andre: I sense Victoria. It's as if she just turned a switch when she sees him. A smile plays across her generous lips, her eyes sparkle. I look back down. Sheldon is heading for the stairwell, the only jean-clad person in the ballroom.  
  
"I think you're about to have some questions answered," I tell Victoria.  
  
Victoria: I don't really want to hear what he says, although I know he is speaking to me. My attention is focused on Sands as he hurries up to greet the two of us.  
  
Sands: I hate these snooty crapheaded one-dimensional shits. At least I'm not too young to know better. I wind my way up to the second level, then down the hall and onto the balcony where Victoria and Andre are standing there like two fashion-plates waiting for the paparazzi to snap their picture.  
  
"Miss me?" I ask, placing a quick kiss on Victoria's cheek. I have a gun under my coat and extra ammo in the pocket. I'm feeling better already. Let the Viscalli come on now. I can't help but smile.  
  
Victoria: "You know I did," I reply and then quickly turn to place a hand on Andre's arm. "Although Andre was wonderful company and cleverly kept me out of trouble with Cerese." I know what he did, if he hadn't I might have tried to take a swing at her. Not that that sort of behavior is very lady like, but then again she wasn't much of a lady. "Find out what you needed to know?" I ask.  
  
Sands: I see Andre is interested in what I'm about to say. His killer instinct is coming out. I raise my brows. "They hadn't heard anything about it," I tell them. "If it's an organized attack on all of us, they'll be prepared now. If it's just me." I lift my jacket to show her I'm armed now. "Now if we come across some unwanted company, I'll dust them."  
  
I can't help but smile. I'm in my element when it comes to disposing of enemies.  
  
Victoria: He's got a rather large weapon under his coat. "Andre was just saying that I should learn to use one of those things." I move a little closer to Sands. "Can we go now? This place makes me uneasy," I whisper in his ear.  
  
Sands: I smile at Andre. "Thanks, brother." He smiles, but I can see he's preoccupied. "What?"  
  
"I do not think you should go out alone if you've already been targeted," he says in his velvety Spanish-tinged voice.  
  
"We have a car," I explain.  
  
"I'm thinking about when you go home tonight." Andre tilts his head to the side. "Even if you don't go tonight, you will eventually. What do you think you will find?"  
  
I frown. "I sort of wondered about that myself." I look at Victoria. "And if they know who you are, then your place is probably being watched, too." I wonder if I should tell them what Quinn and MacGreggor suggested about the motive of the Viscalli.  
  
To Be Continued 


	16. Sands and Victoria Evening 3 part 4

Sands and Victoria Evening 3 part 4 Victoria: "Oh I don't think you have to worry about my home. After all I just arrived here in New York. If it's really a war then they probably haven't found me yet." I look at the two men before me. I really don't want to stay here. The longer I stay here the greater the chances that . . . "We could always stay at a hotel?"  
  
Sands: In unison Andre and I ask, "A hotel?"  
  
Victoria: I roll my eyes in embarrassment. Obviously a poor suggestion. "Or we could get out of New York?"  
  
Sands: "I'm not trying to avoid these guys. I say, 'Come on, Viscalli, come get me and I'll shoot your . heads off.'" I think of getting away. The first place my mind goes to is Mexico. Hot, lethal Mexico. My kind of place.  
  
Victoria: "Oh I wasn't suggesting we hide." I don't know what to say, so I stop talking. Men can be so frustrating, I think to myself. Sometimes I wish I could just go back home.  
  
Sands: Andre is suddenly all protective of Victoria. "Of course you weren't," he says.  
  
"Good then," I smile. "Let's go dancing."  
  
Victoria: Andre is very kind, I could get to like him very much. I light up when Sands says we can leave. "Good! Where to? I could use a change of scenery."  
  
Sands: Before I can speak, Andre throws some ice water on my plans. "Sheldon," he says in his Mr. Patience voice, "I have two words for you." Okay, he has my attention now. "Nine. Eleven."  
  
"Uh?" I ask, then it hits me. "You're right, of course," I say feeling pretty stupid. They're not going to let us into any really big place with the guns, and I cannot dance with the jacket on, can I? I turn to Victoria. "Maybe we can find a safer place to dance." I have an idea.  
  
Victoria: I look at him curiously. The wheels are turning in his mind. I wonder what surprises he has in store. I learned over a very short time that Sheldon Jeffrey Sands is very resourceful. "Lead the way."  
  
Sands: I grin, taking Victoria's hand and looking from her to Andre. "Don't we still have that disco room from the 70's?"  
  
Andre tilts his head to the side looking thoughtful. "We probably do. It's in the basement somewhere." He waves a hand.  
  
"Let's go see if we can find it." I look back at Victoria. "We had it all set up, just like a club. Even a glitter ball."  
  
Victoria: "What's a glitter ball?" I ask. I'm a little disappointed that he wants to stay in this place. But I know I'll be all right as long as I am with him, so I put the thought to the back of my mind.  
  
Sands: She doesn't know what a glitter ball is? Where has she been hiding? "It's big ball," I demonstrate with my arms, "covered in little pieces of mirror. When you aim a spotlight at it, it sends lights all over the room. You've never seen one?" I look to Andre to back me up on this. He nods. He's looking thoughtful. I don't know if that's good.  
  
Victoria: "That sounds like fun," I reply. "I know you must wonder where I've been hiding to be so naive about so many things." I wrap myself around his arm. "Let's just say I've been keeping a rather low profile."  
  
Sands: Low profile is one thing, she's been in a cave. That damned McLoud. I'll have to hunt him down sometime, find out what is in his fucking head. Maybe empty it for him. Andre interrupts my plans of revenge. "I would imagine Ernest might enjoy a little disco."  
  
"Who is Ernest?" I ask.  
  
Andre raises an aristocratic brow. "My date."  
  
"Oh. Fine. We'll go down and find the place. I think we need to attack the liquor cupboard first, get something to drink." I smile at Victoria. "Want to go thieving with me?"  
  
Victoria: "I'd love to. " Now this sounds like fun. I turn to Andre, "I look forward to meeting Ernest. If he's half the charmer you are, a girl could get herself in over her head." I lightly touch his cheek.  
  
Sands: Shit. Look at Andre lick it up. He's such a pushover. I tuck Victoria's arm into mine and head back down the hall. The wolf pack is still sniffing around. I do not understand why these people, who claim to be so civilized, are prone to staring. I want to snarl at them, but I control myself in front of Victoria, just like I control my tongue. Yeah, control. That's me. Walk and ignore and think of ways to assassinate them one at a time.  
  
We get down to the main floor and we're forced to walk through the damned ballroom again. I hope Victoria doesn't mind all the stares as much as I do.  
  
Victoria: I lean in closers to Sands and whisper softly. "You certainly attract a lot of attention." I feel that weapon against my ribs. Cerese's words run through my mind. "Psychobeauty. . . " I shut out all the stares, but you can still hear the whispers. "Who is that with Sands?" I hear one dark skinned vamp ask the man at her side.  
  
Sands: I look over at Victoria as we walk. She is so elegant, fluid grace, holding herself like royalty. My attention slips past her lovely neck to a mulatto just beyond. Our gazes lock for a moment. I don't feel hatred from her, only curiosity, so I smile just a little. Then we're gone, Victoria and I, passing over the threshold into the side hallway.  
  
I feel a sense of relief as I lead Victoria to the stairwell and we start down. I'm trying to remember exactly where the disco room was. I think it was just one floor down.  
  
Victoria: "I hope I don't have to do that again," I say to break the silence and then I laugh a little. "Things don't change much, do they? Ballrooms are still the best place for intrigue." I tilt my head towards him playfully as we descend to the lower floors. "Why my brother Claude and I used to cause such a stir a social functions. All the women loved him and despised me."  
  
Sands: We step through the doorway. It's dark here. "You must have cut a swath through them," I comment. This floor looks abandoned. I look left and right. "I think it's this way." I head off to the right, her hand in mine. "Right here." I go to the double doors at the end of the hall. If I'm right, we're right below the ballroom now. I open the door.  
  
Victoria: It doesn't look like too many people come down this way anymore. Things are dusty and they don't seem to supply power to this level. I wonder if things are like this further down, where the guardians are for instance. "Sands? Andre and I were talking." We come to a pair of large cherry wood doors. I love the rich, warm tone of cherry wood. They creak a little as Sands pushes them open.  
  
Sands: Beyond the door is the disco room. It's empty, dark, very nice. "Okay, this is it." I turn to Victoria. "Talking about what?" I search for a light switch or something.  
  
Victoria: "You," I let the word drop. I turn around scanning the room. With our vampire vision it really wouldn't matter if Sands found the light switch or not. "Are you a Guardian ?" I ask as if the answer really doesn't matter.  
  
Sands: "No," I tell her. "This way." I lead her over to the old disc jockey table. There are control panels there behind the glass. I start throwing switches. Maybe if I throw enough it'll cause a brown out in the room upstairs. "Why did you talk about me?"  
  
Victoria: I follow him, he's playing this coolly. "Oh, Andre was fishing for details of our morning, and then that awful Cerese came up with her crowd and starting pushing my buttons." I look up and around and see a slight twinkling from the center of the ceiling. "I almost took her head, but Andre interceded."  
  
Sands: "Don't make an enemy of that bitch, love. She's got connections who would go after you." I look at her. "These people here, they network, savvy?"  
  
Victoria: "She came after me," I hopelessly point to my chest for effect. "I don't back down. Not anymore. Besides she had simply awful things to say about you."  
  
Sands: I shrug. Cerese probably told the truth. Victoria is getting a little excited here. "There are ways to eliminate your enemies without anyone knowing it was you," I tell her calmly. "If you really want me to." I might enjoy arranging for Cerese to be dusted. I could force someone else to do it, then that person would have to die, too. I smile at Victoria. "We still need the liquor."  
  
To Be Continued 


	17. Sands and Victoria Evening 3 part 5

Sands and Victoria Evening 3 part 5 Victoria: I resume a quiet stance and watch him carefully. "Well, where would that be?" I ask. He's dangerous, but he's an excellent lover. I'll have to watch myself around him, my heart is pounding the same way it was in the park. He has a dangerous look in his eye, but he wouldn't really hurt me, would he? "I could go pick up a few bottles if you point me in the right direction?"  
  
Sands: She looks downright edible. I find myself moving closer, my hands sliding around her hips. I kiss the space where her collarbones come together. "You are too sweet," I tell her. I have to kiss her neck. Lick. Nibble. My mouth moves higher. "I bet a kiss with a little tequila on your lips would taste really good." I smile as I look into her eyes. I want her now, but it will be better if I wait.  
  
Victoria: I exhale deeply as his lips press tenderly against my skin. "Yes, " I say breathlessly as my hands rest across his strong shoulders. This is what I like about him, the way he makes me feel. "Well then let's go find some." I lean into his body and kiss his neck at the base of his ear.  
  
Sands: Okay, if she keeps doing that, we're not moving. "Yeah," I mumble. But here we stand, pressing our bodies into one another's. I wonder if she wants to do it right here. The fucking floor is dirty and cold. Maybe on top of the turntables.  
  
My arms slide up her back until I cradle her head with both hands, holding her to me. Her mouth is very talented. Her hands move down from my shoulders to my chest. I've got to lose this coat.  
  
Victoria: I push off and smile. "Let's go find that alcohol." I take a quick step back. "Andre and Ernest will be here shortly. We can resume our activities later." My eyes sparkle with excitement. He'd take me anywhere, and I might let him.  
  
Sands: What do I care if Andre and Ernest should come in? "All right." I look around. "We'll have to go to the other side of the building." I lead her back toward the room's entrance. "Down the hall this way. We'll get to the area below the kitchen. They store things there."  
  
Our shoes make echoing noises on the hard floors. I'm not sure exactly where this is. I haven't been down here for a very long time. The building was smaller then. "There," I follow my ears. We come to an area where three of the thralls are standing and smoking in an short hallway.  
  
"What have we here?" I ask.  
  
They never heard us coming. Pity humans have such poor hearing. They turn around, eyes opening wide. The one with the curly short blond hair answers, as he holds his cigarette down. Like I can't smell it.  
  
"Sorry, sir, we were taking a break." His voice is tight, but he's telling the truth so far.  
  
"You smoke in here?" I ask. "Is it still raining?"  
  
"Yes," the shortest one says. He has hair falling into his eyes and a face that reminds me of a Frenchman I knew once.  
  
"Where's the liquor kept these days?" I wonder who they're enthralled under.  
  
"I'll show you, sir." The blond one speaks up. This time he's meeting my eyes. I get it now. He's the aggressive one.  
  
"Lead on." I look over at Victoria. Does she have anyone enthralled, I wonder. Did that bastard McLoud even explain it to her?  
  
Victoria: They are not vampires. They smell different. I'm surprised that their are humans here, in the clan house. There were never any humans in Baton Rouge. When we are alone I will ask him.  
  
The blond one leads us down another narrow passage way to a small room. Rather like a large pantry. He flips a light switch and speaks, "Can I help you with anything else?" I don't like his tone. Maybe we should just snap his neck.  
  
Sands: I can sense that Victoria is a little excited about something. Maybe she likes to drink. We never drank last night, I remember now. "No. Fuck off," I tell the thrall.  
  
He leave quickly. Someone's trained him well. I turn to Victoria. "What is your choice, m'lady?" I gesture toward the huge selection.  
  
Victoria: Bottles of every shape and size cover one entire wall. "Champange 1756, would be my first choice." I fold my arms gently across my chest. "But being that I'm from down south, anything with rum will be just fine, sugar."  
  
I'm glad he sent that human away, he 's gone now out of ear shot. I follow him about the small room. "Why are there Humans here? I mean really is that safe?"  
  
Sands: I knew it. I turn towards her. "They're thralls. You never had a thrall? You don't know how to enthrall them?"  
  
Victoria: "You mean , to get them to do things for you?" I tilt my head.  
  
Sands: I must look stupid, standing here with my mouth hanging open. "That bastard never taught you how to enthrall, did he? You can take just a little blood, just a taste, and make them want to do whatever you say. After a while, they can almost read your mind.  
  
Victoria: I fold my arms across my chest and look at him pondering what he has said. "Isn't that just a little bit dangerous? They can read you're mind. I don't think I want my food knowing what I'm thinking."  
  
Sands:  
  
I laugh. "We need servants. That's what thralls are good for. They do things for us." I reach behind her and pull out a bottle of rum. "Who do you think goes shopping for us? Or does things we can't do?" She is looking at me with incredulity written all over her face. "What, you think we're invincible?"  
  
Victoria: I walk forward and press my body against his. He's very interesting; the way he sees things. My arms wrap around his waist. "Sometimes, I think some of us are."  
  
Sands: All I can see is her face, those lips. I bend my head to taste those lips, so soft. "When," I kiss the side of her mouth, "you meet that person," I kiss her chin, "then warn me." My kisses trail down her neck as my free hand reaches behind to cup her head. I'm getting hot and cold signals from her, but I'm flexible. Of course, I'd rather throw her down and go for it, but kissing is nice.  
  
Victoria: I tilt my head and shut my eyes, exposing my neck. His kisses are heavenly. A smile spreads across my lips. "I thought I had," I reply softly.  
  
It doesn't look like Andre will be joining us. We have been alone down here for a while. I concentrate, searching the area to see if anyone is near. Everyone seems to be up-stairs. I run my hands down the sides of his hips, my fingers rest in the waist band of his jeans.  
  
Sands: I can't remember if I shut the pantry door when we came in here to hunt down alcohol. Who cares? I settle the bottle of rum on a shelf, clinking it against another bottle. I wrap my other arm around her waist, urging her closer as my mouth reaches the lovely curve between her neck and shoulder. I lick her, then nibble without breaking the skin. My attention is on her hands. I want more. I want her to touch me.  
  
Victoria: This is so dangerous, here in the clan house, below all the others, it's exciting! I moan a little and slide my hands around to the front of this jeans. I pop one of the buttons open and open my eyes. Then I pop the second, and the third. I'm smiling foolishly. I slip my hand and feel for his flesh.  
  
Sands: She must be reading my mind. I press into her with my body, even as my teeth gently break the skin and I take a sip of her. It's mind-shattering, that feeling, the throbbing of her blood, the taste of her in my mouth, the feel of her hands holding me. I want to crawl inside of her. I press her back against the shelf, my arm protecting her from its hardness, then I pull back to look into her eyes. She's alight with mischief and passion.  
  
Victoria: With one hand I stroke the length of him, with the other I reach up into his hair and entangle my fingers within his soft, slightly damp locks. I lean forward and tilt my head to come between his neck and earlobe. I prick him with my teeth and the taste of him rush into my mouth. I stop and pull back to look in his eyes. He has very warm eyes. To Be Continued 


	18. Sands and Victoria Evening 3 part 6

Sands and Victoria Evening 3 part 6  
  
Sands: She looks at me, tries to see into me. She doesn't see me. She sees the façade. I'm glad she can't see me, can't see the dark. It would frighten her away.  
  
Victoria: "Don't stop now," I lean forward to kiss his lips, but instead gently bite his lower lip.  
  
Sands: She knows just how to reach me. Her teeth scrape my lip and I taste my own blood. It sends another rush through me and I press myself again into her hands. "You want it here?" I ask, my voice now a rough whisper.  
  
Victoria: "Is that okay? " I ask softly and quickly kiss him again. "We won't get in trouble?" I kiss him again. I want him so badly. I feel very much alive when I am with him. A strange thing for a vampire to say. But I've hid in the shadows for so long, picking up and moving from place to place. I don't want to be afraid anymore. I want to experience everything I can.  
  
Sands: "What's trouble?" I ask, reaching to pull her top off. "We're not children, Victoria." I tilt my head to the side and look at her. "If you want, I'll even shut the door." I smile at her, feeling just as mischievous as her.  
  
Victoria: I laugh, partly because of him and partly due to my own absurdity. I lift my arms and allow him to remove the black garment. I see the surprise in his eyes at the sight of my black lace push-up bra. With one hand I begin to unbutton his denim shirt.  
  
Sands: As her hands unbutton my shirt, I reach forward to kiss the tops of her breasts, to nibble on her collarbone. The hand I had behind her neck slides down, searching for the hooks, though she does look mighty fine in the lacy bra. I can feel the rise and dip of each vertebrae, the muscles in her back. "How is it that such a fine looking woman like you," I say, kissing her neck, "stayed single in the 18th century until she was, what? Twenty-two?" It doesn't seem possible. I look up at her to see how she reacts to the question and I wonder if she's hiding things from me.  
  
Victoria: Shocked, my hand momentarily stops massaging his member. I freeze for a moment before replying. "My mother died in childbirth when I was nine. I was the only girl in a house full of men. My father never married and plunged himself into his work. My brothers liked having me around to see to their needs, so marrying me off was not a priority." My sentences were short and clipped.  
  
Sands: I don't know why she's pissed all of a sudden. "I bet your brothers had to beat the guys off with whips and clubs, eh?" I can imagine her in her frilly long dresses, her lacy little gloves, her southern-style parasols. I find myself grinning at the mental image. "You didn't have a secret beau?" I can't imagine going 'til you're past fourteen without getting banged at least once, even though those were different times. I watch her expression. Fuck, she's so beautiful, so exciting.  
  
Victoria: "Of course I did!" I push him playfully and then continue my stroking. "Why do you think all the other girls disliked me so? I only had Claude to watch over me, and he was a terrible influence." Then I lean in to kiss his lips. "Of course being overlooked and unattended by my family members is what brought me into this state."  
  
Sands: "Thank heavens," I mumble. I lean forward, reaching my mouth toward hers, my hips involuntarily moving as she holds me. A low grown escapes me as we kiss. I can still taste her blood and mine, two distinct flavors, both causing me to hold her more tightly. Forget the bloody hooks. My hands slide down to the waist of her pants. How the hell do I get these off?  
  
Victoria: His mouth discovers my own and the kisses become more passionate, more frequent. "Thank heaven for what?" I ask between kisses as I push his shirt off over one shoulder. I'll have to stop stroking him in order to unbutton my pants. The designers are very good at hiding the hardware. I stop long enough to undo the latch and then look into his eyes. So handsome, beautiful really. I push his shirt off the other shoulder exposing his perfectly smooth chest.  
  
Sands: "Thank heavens for your unattended family members," I tell her, my voice lower than normal. My eyes study her. She's looking at me, her hunger as evident as I'm sure mine is. I watch as she unfastens her new pants, and I start to kick off my shoes. "You must run or dance or something," I say, admiring her sleekness. "Kiss me." I have to taste her again.  
  
Victoria: I unzip my boots as he talks and slip them off my feet. "Dance, " I say flatly with a slight smile. I throw myself into his arms at his request and kiss him deeply, this time allowing my tongue to explore his mouth, twisted and turning with pleasure as we embrace.  
  
Sands: "Dance, I knew it," I gasp, my hands shoving my jeans down. Our tongues battle again, I can feel her hunger. I pull back, watching her again. She looks at me, the expression of a cat who has the mouse in hand, and I can't help but smile again. Somehow my jacket and shirt have ended up on the floor and I look around. There's some boxes of wine, but nothing comfortable looking. "Want to use your fur coat?" I ask, gesturing with a glance toward the floor.  
  
Victoria: I chuckle. "You must not see anything but my eyes." I smile as I slide out of my pants revealing a barely there set of matching black lace panties. "It was taken at the door remember. We'll have to use your jacket, or nothing at all." I don't care really. The hard floor, or his coat. I just want him. So un-lady like, but I don't care I just want him.  
  
Sands: There are solutions for everything, I decide. I reach for her panties, "You've got to lose these."  
  
Victoria: "Fine, but they're not going to provide much of a cushion." I step out of my panties and drop them at the floor beneath our feet and then I reach for him, beckoning him to come.  
  
Sands: I grab her around the waist and pick her up. Her long legs go around me and I attempt to lower her slowly onto myself. Her hands are around my neck, holding on as we fight gravity, but not too hard. I ease her down. She feels so fucking good. I can't even talk. I hope I'm not hurting her by holding onto her so tightly.  
  
Victoria: I smile and shut my eyes. My head tilts back as he eases up inside of me. I hold onto his strong shoulders and cannot speak. Sparks of pleasure shoot through me with each movement. He's very resourceful, and gentlemanly. He does want to place me on the dusty floor.  
  
Sands: The world is ripping apart, sparks rising from a fire, brilliant embers blazing as I get caught up in Victoria. She is all there is, her scent, the feel of her, her hands on my shoulders, the soft sexy sounds she is making, even the feeling of her heels digging into my back. There is a firestorm racing through me, burning along every nerve, building higher and higher as she rides me faster and harder.  
  
Victoria: I hope I don't hurt him. But I can't stop myself. I want to consume him, I want to be consumed. I hear the sound of my blood pumping and I tighten around him. I feel the storm raging through my body. I have to taste him. I lower my head as I pull his hair out of the way. I bite and his essence rush past my lips.  
  
Sands: Oh, fuck! She's tasting me and I'm going to go totally nuclear with the heat of her. Gritting my teeth, I focus on bringing her a happy ending before me. Ohfuckinghell, estoy por acabar !! I feel her cheek against mine, her breath on my ear, and I turn my head and bite into her. Her warmth rushes into my mouth. I groan again, arching up into her, stepping forward to press her against the wall.  
  
Victoria: Again with the wall! As my back hits the wall I climax and release my grip on his neck. I moan with pleasure pumping against him with even greater force. I want to feel all of him up inside of me.  
  
Sands: Fuckingbloddyhell. She's there, and now I can let go. It feels like I'm blind again, but so good. I think my brain has leaked out. There's only the feeling, the taste, the scent of her. Nothing else exists. My hips continue to grind into her, then slow. My entire body pulses with pleasure. "Victoria," I breathe. My mouth is somehow back on her neck. My lips touch the small marks where I bit her. My tongue sneaks out to taste her again.  
  
Victoria: He explodes and I can feel the rush of him through me. He whispers my name and that brings me even more pleasure. I rest my cheek against the top of his head as my body begins to slow. His mouth is on my neck. I love his mouth, its gentle probing. "Sands", I reply breathlessly.  
  
Sands: My entire body is still humming from the thrill of her. She whispers my name into my ear, and I sigh. I don't want this to end. My arms hold her and I can feel the pulsing of her body against mine.  
  
Victoria: I cling to him, not wanting this to end. I feel as if I could stay here forever.  
  
Sands: I remember where we are as reality begins to descend once again. The rush of having her still tingles along my spine. "You want down?"  
  
Victoria: "No," I reply quietly as I still rest against his frame. Then I sigh. "But perhaps you should." I lift his chin with my finger until our eyes are locked. I look deeply into those dark eyes wishing to see all that they hold. I slowly kiss his lips.  
  
Sands: I don't usually feel so comfortable with a woman I've only know for two days. "It's a shame we didn't meet earlier," I tell her after we kiss. I let her as gently as possible to the ground. She's still wearing her black bra. "Well, look, I didn't even get it all off. We need more practice, I rekon." I have to laugh. I'm still feeling all warm inside. To Be Continued 


	19. Victoria's Story part 1

Victoria's Story part 1  
  
I had four brothers. Francois, Charles, Jon and Claude. Of them all, I loved Claude the most. He was the youngest member of our family and looked most like mother. Because of this, he was disliked most by father, even more than I . We banded together and became inseparable.  
  
One evening he and I attended a ball at the Governor's home. It was a fabulous affair, with all the best people in attendance. Claude had been my escort, until a bubbly little blond fluttered her eyes lashes at him. He could never resist a pert blond.  
  
That is how I found myself unattended and wandering from room to room, engaging myself in small conversations and then excusing myself to explore further. Then I saw him: Connor McCloud. Sitting at a gaming table with a group of wealthy business men, engaged in a high stakes game of poker. There was a small crowd gathered watching the event closely. A bevy of beautiful girls standing behind him, fawning over his every move. He did not look at them, the other players or his cards, but rather captured me in his stare.  
  
His hair was dark, shoulder length, tied at the back of his neck and he had the bluest eyes I had ever seen. They transfixed me. I felt like my feet had been pinned to the floor. I watched from across the room as he played his final card and the small crowd began to cheer. It was only then I was able to break away from his glance. I quickly left in search of Claude.  
  
I found him in the ballroom standing off to one corner with his blond draped over his arm. He waved to me and I crossed the floor to join him. I tried to tell him what had just occurred and that I wished to go home, but he was in pursuit of a beautiful girl and didn't hear a word I had said. She pulled him out on the dance floor and again I remained alone.  
  
A strange feeling came over me as if I were being watched. I glanced around the ballroom and saw nothing out of the ordinary so I decided to take a seat. That is when the dark haired Scot approached and held out his hand. An invitation to dance. He did not speak, just held me in his gaze. I stood looked in his stare which seemed to go through me. I felt hot and uneasy, but slowly I placed my small hand in his. At that time I did not understand why I agreed to dance, but as we stepped onto the floor I felt a change was about to take place.  
  
We did not speak for quite some time. He just held me in his powerful arms and we sailed across the floor. I cannot explain the feeling that came over me, but I felt helpless. As the song ended I curtsied and turn to go but he held my hand firmly in his. "Again, " he said. His Scottish accent rolling across the word. I flushed, but danced.  
  
"We haven't been properly introduced sir," I adverted my eyes.  
  
"Aye, but we have. I am Connor McCloud, and you are Victoria Dupree. Daughter of Victor and Eloise Dupree. Sister to Claude," he nodded in Claude's direction. "Francois, Charles and Jon."   
  
I was shocked and it was reflected in my eyes.  
  
"Dunna worry, lass," he said sweetly. "I'm a business acquaintance of your fathers, not the bloody devil."  
  
A small laugh escaped my lips.  
  
"That's better, now dance." he replied.  
  
Connor McCloud spent the rest of the evening by my side and when the ball was through he offer to escort me to my home. Seeing how Claude was no where in sight, and neither was his blond, I acquiesced.  
  
For the next two months we were seen everywhere together, and I can honestly say that those were some of the happiest moments I can remember. But soon it was to all turn dark.  
  
Connor asked my father for my hand in marriage. Francois and Charles were home on military leave and were quite displeased with my choice of a suitor. Jon was especially angry.  
  
"He's your business partner!" I yelled. "You know him!"  
  
"Yes, I do know him and that is precisely why he is completely unsuitable!" Jon shouted back.  
  
"Enough!" My father interjected. "Jon is correct. Connor McCloud is not for you."  
  
"Oh, but I'm alright ta do business with!"  
  
"Connor!" I exclaimed and rushed to his side. He encircled his arm about my shoulder. "You never complained when I was making ya rich. But now I'm not good enough for yer daughter."  
  
To Be Continued 


	20. Victoria's Story part 2

Victoria's Story part 2 Charles and Francois moved across the floor of father study, sword drawn. I gasped, Connor smiled and then shoved me back. "Now boys, I'll kill ya." he said with a laugh.   
  
"Connor don't! They're my brothers!" I shouted and grabbed for his arm.  
  
My father stepped forward, "Sir , leave this house!" he commanded. I looked at him stunned.  
  
"How could you!" I shouted back. Claude moved forward and took me by the arm.  
  
"Come Victoria," he gently urged. Because I loved him I allowed myself to be pulled away.  
  
Connor had a wild look in his eye as he turned to go. "Dunna worry, my pretty lass, they canna keep us apart. And if they do, they'll live to regret it." And then he was gone.  
  
Those words haunt me still. If I had not been so head strong things wouldn't have turned out so badly.   
  
Connor arranged for the two of us to meet, sometimes at public functions, and at other times alone. I shake my head now at my folly. Father tried to have the Governor lock Connor up. This angered me so that I never spoke to him again. Which wasn't that long of a time, because two weeks later Father was found dead with his throat cut. Everyone said it was a business deal gone wrong. I knew it was Connor. I was shattered. The day after the funeral he asked me to meet him. I don't know why I did, my feelings for him had been colored by his deeds.  
  
I rode out into the country to see him, intending to confront him about his participation in the matter.  
  
"Of course it was me," he said with a laugh. "And if anyone else gets in our way. . ."  
  
The others did get in the way, Jon, Francois and Charles. He killed them all, despite my pleading. Jon was found drowned in the river. The authorities called it an unfortunate accident. Francois he killed in a duel. And Charles' broken body was found in the Forrest. I hated him, and I told him so. Connor went wild with rage. I told Claude that we had to run, that we had to get away before Connor killed him to.  
  
Reluctantly Claude agreed and the two of us set off for the Continent. It felt good to be at sea and for the first time in many months I felt that I was free. We landed in England and then decided to go to Paris. Two Americans in Paris. At that time Americans were very popular. We entered society and preceded to enjoy the life the city had to offer. That is of course until Connor found us.  
  
Claude was engaged in a rather high stakes game of cards in one of Paris' most fashionable salons, and I was enjoying the company of a handsome young Frenchman. He and I were walking in the garden enjoying the night air and each other. That's when I saw Connor for what he truly was. He swept down upon us, as if from nowhere. I was horrified watching him tear that young man apart!  
  
"You must be Satan himself!" I screamed.  
  
"No, but close," and then he laughed. I turned to run but he was faster than anything I could have ever imagined and before I could even take two steps he was upon me. I fell to the ground and he pressed my body into the dirt!  
  
"You'll not be getting away that easily Victoria. In fact you'll never be getting away from me again!" He had a wild look in his eye and then closed in upon my neck.  
  
I screamed as his teeth sunk into my flesh. I felt my life slipping away! I clawed at his arms, but my feeble attempts did nothing. I felt my heart beat slow and my limbs grew heavy. Connor pulled away, my blood on his lips, my eyelids fluttered and the world seemed to be growing dark.  
  
"You're dying girl and there's only one thing that can save ya," He tore at his own wrist and pressed it to my mouth. "Drink, " he said. My eyes fluttered. The blood dripping into my mouth. It was sweet? "Drink! Damn ya!" he commanded.  
  
I don't know what compelled me to follow his directions, But I wanted his blood. As it flowed into my mouth everything slowly went black. 


	21. Sands and Victoria Evening 3 part 7

Sands & Victoria have an audience with Abberline (cont) Night 3 part 7  
  
Sands: We get dressed again and I find my gaze drawn back to her over and over. Then I sense another very nearby, one who wields a great deal of power. I know this vampire. I turn to face the door of the pantry.  
  
"Are you descent yet?" I hear the voice of Abberline and if I could blush, I would.  
  
"Yes," I cast a quick glance to Victoria and mouth the name "Abberline" to her. I hope she understands.  
  
Victoria: Sands seems suddenly distracted. I watch him carefully as I fasten my pants. "Abberline" , he mouths. I remember that name from Andre. He is the one for whom our clan is named for. I am embarrassed and step behind Sands placing his body between Abberline and me.  
  
Sands: I move toward the door, sensing Victoria behind me. "Sir?" I ask. I can see him now and wonder why he has come for me.  
  
"Would you two come with me?" Abberline asks politely. He still has his British accent, hasn't lost it even though he's been here a hundred years or so.  
  
"Yes, sir," I say. I reach back a hand for Victoria's. "Come with me."  
  
Victoria: I nod and place my hand in his. I look into his eyes. Can he sense my worry? What could Abberline want with the two of us? We shouldn't have come.  
  
Sands: Abberline leads us to a back wall. He touches it and the wooden panel slides aside to reveal a hidden staircase. I didn't know this was here. We climb up to the third floor then exit through another sliding panel. We're standing in the research library within Abberline's private quarters. The scent of incense fills the air. He gestures toward two leather chairs and walks around behind a desk.  
  
I study him. He hasn't changed much since I last saw him. Physically, he's a just little shorter than me, his hair neatly combed back, his dark eyes seeing everything.  
  
Victoria and I sit. I wonder if this is going to be a lecture.  
  
Victoria: This is a beautiful room. I sit quietly and fold my hands in my lap crossing my ankles, trying to look as innocent as possible. Suddenly an old feeling creeps over me. The feeling I used to get when father wished to scold Claude and I. I brace myself for a lecture.  
  
Sands: Slowly, Abberline pulls a tobacco pouch from a pocket, roles a dark-paper cigarette, licks it, and seals it. He sits back. "I understand you've been the target of the Viscalli. What do you think precipitated it?"  
  
Oh, so that's what it's all about. I feel Victoria relax a little beside me. "I talked to Quinn about some possibilities," I start. "It could be retaliation for a kill I did in Russian about twenty years ago. A KGB agent who might have been Viscalli." I shrug. "Just a theory."  
  
Victoria: I look to Sands, KGB? He's had an interesting life. I listen quietly, sure that I was not the target of the attack. From what little I learned from the others while Sands spoke to Quinn, it is more likely that Sands was the target of the attack, not me. Then I feel something, something that I have not felt for a long time. I concentrate.  
  
Sands: I look from Abberline to Victoria. They're about the same height, same coloring, my train of thoughts makes me wonder what I have in common with her. He's still waiting for more of an answer.  
  
"I don't know, sir," I continue, speaking slowly. "I have enemies." I meet his gaze. "Don't we all?" His gaze continues to see right through me. "How far back do you think I should look? I was discussing this with Quinn. I did assassinate someone who could have been Viscalli during the cold war, as I said. That's the only one in the past.twenty years or so."  
  
Victoria: Sir, he keeps calling him sir. Abberline must be very powerful to command such respect. I bow my head and look at my hands, listening very carefully to the conversation as it passes between the two men. I stroke one of my fingers as I listen. The cold war, I went to sleep for a short while during that time. It was easier than running, I wonder if Sands has ever chosen to sleep. I don't think so, he tackles everything head on.  
  
Sands: "Yes, Sands," Abberline is saying to me in his calm patient manner, "Quinn mentioned that, you already mentioned that, but what about more recently? It might not be a Viscalli you engaged directly. They may be someone else's tools." He reaches over and picks up a lighter and holds it, his gaze going to Victoria. "Do you mind if I smoke?" he askes politely. That's Abberline, his sire one of the most fucking powerful vampires ever to walk the earth, and he asks Victoria if he can smoke in his own mansion.  
  
Victoria: He breaks my reverie. I look up at him through my thick lashes and smile politely. "No, not at all." Then I go back to my thoughts. Tools? Someone's tools?  
  
Sands: He's getting right to the point. "They could be, but what other clan would dare attack us?"  
  
"Attack you, Sands," Abberline corrects.  
  
I shrug. "Attack me, a member of your clan, our clan, however you want to put it."  
  
He holds up a hand. "Sands, you made it clear years ago that you are a loner. The clan holds no appeal to you, except as a source of weapons and research."  
  
I nod. "I'm not here for tea and cookies, if that's what you mean. But I have defended our clan with the best of them."  
  
"And you've made many enemies who don't even know your of the brotherhood," Abberline ads. "Human enemies."  
  
"Yes," I have to agree. "But most of them think I'm dead."  
  
"Obviously not all."  
  
Victoria: Interesting; the conversation of these men. Women of my day were trained to listen, to sit quietly and observe the world around them. I am learning many things tonight. Sands has many enemies. I interlace my fingers, we all have enemies. But does Abberline intend to abandon Sands if this hunt is specifically for him? I look up and watch Sands as his lips move. He's so controlled at this moment. I know he'd rather be anywhere but here. Then I turn and gaze at Abberline as he speaks. I look into his eyes.  
  
Sands: "Not all," I repeat. Then I smile. "We could start at the very beginning with Jacob," I say brightly. If Abberline wants details, I'll give him details.  
  
Victoria: I turn my head an look at Sands. He's itching for a fight. I clear my throat ever so quietly. "Excuse me," I wait briefly as they both look over to me. "Should I go? Perhaps you two would prefer to continue this in private?"  
  
I don't think Sands is ready to reveal all his secrets to me, especially not in this manner. Besides I think Abberline can read my thoughts. Some of our kind have different gifts, they manifest themselves as we age. One as strong as he can certainly read my thoughts.  
  
Sands: I am puzzled by Victoria's words. "Go?" I ask, hoping she doesn't leave.  
  
Abberline has turned his 100 watt attention on Victoria now. "Tell me, why is it we've never seen you before, Victoria?"  
  
Victoria: Now I've done it, broken all my own rules, and now I'm trapped here in this room, in this house, of all places in front of our clan leader! I can feel my heart jump and my fingers tighten there grip around each other.  
  
Perhaps I can charm my way out of this.  
  
Sands: Why isn't she answering him? "Victoria?" I urge her. I wet my lips, and open my mouth, then she speaks.  
  
Victoria: I smile pleasantly and straighten up. "I was never one for crowds."  
  
Sands: My mouth hangs open and my gaze darts to see how Abberline is taking this. He looks fascinated.  
  
Victoria: I look at Sands and then back to Abberline. "I have spent most of my time traveling about from country to country, and in all that time I have never met more than a few of our kind. My sire being one of the few."  
  
I sigh and then continue as Abberline's gaze becomes more intense. "Being around our kind can be complicated and dangerous. The humans are much easier to deal with."  
  
Sands: "She is of our clan," I tell him. Then I wonder. Did she lie to me? Shit, I would if I was afraid of other vampires the way she seems to be. That fuckwit who turned her is responsible for this. "Someone named McLoud turned her," I blurt out, to confirm her being a member of our clan. "A Scot, right Victoria? He wouldn't let her out of his sight. Real possessive bastard. Tell him, Victoria." Now she'll tell him.  
  
"McLoud?" Abberline echoes.  
  
Victoria: My eyes pop open. Fear fills me. I'm sure they can both smell it dripping off of me like honey from the comb. Then I close my eyes. "You canna hide forever lassie," I hear inside my head.  
  
I take a deep breath. "My troubles are not you concern sir, you have much more pressing matters to attend to, I'm sure." My good breeding comes into play.  
  
Sands: I reach to touch her arm, wondering why she's withdrawing from me. Abberline begins to speak and suddenly both Victoria and I are looking at him with shock on our faces.  
  
"If you had studied your own history, Sheldon, you would have discovered that your first enemy, Jacob he was called then, was cast out by Lilith and went to Scotland."  
  
I feel a strange sensation at the base of my spine. "Did Jacob make McLoud a vampire?" I ask, my throat dry with hatred.  
  
"No," Abberline looks at me with those liquid brown eyes of his, "He did not make McLoud, he IS McLoud."  
  
Victoria: Sands reaches to touch my arm. I don't move, I let his hand come to rest upon my arm. I turn my gaze to Sands. "Do you know Connor, uh Jacob?" I ask. The I turn my gaze quickly back to Abberline. My other hand reaching instinctively to Sands. "Sir, he isn't here is he?"  
  
Sands: "Fuck!" I breathe. "Here? He's here?" Suddenly my vision is flooded with red. I'm on my feet. "That stupidbloodyidiot is here?"  
  
Abberline is also standing. "You will not create violence in my house, Sands." His voice is soft, but binds me like steel. I'm practically shivering with rage but unable to act. "He is in the local area, not in this building. Lilith has sensed him for a few weeks now."  
  
Victoria: I stand quickly. "I have to go, please I have to go! He'll kill me for leaving him, for what I've done!" I need to get to my car and then out of the city. If he's here , then he'll know where I am. Perhaps he sent those other vampires after me as a warning that he was coming.  
  
Sands: Abberline, effortlessly, holds me like a butterfly on a pin. I can feel Victoria's fear washing over me. I wonder what she's done.  
  
"He's not here for you," Abberline tells her. "McLoud's the criminal here, Victoria."  
  
Victoria: "You knew then?" I ask softly, relaxing just a bit. I don't feel so well. I reach for the chair behind me and lower myself into its inviting cushions. "Criminal?"  
  
Sands: "Do you think we allow people like Jacob to hold other vampires as slaves?" I ask, spitting the words out. "Slavery is for thralls, not vampires."  
  
"I concur," Abberline speaks up. "It would seem you two have a common enemy." He purses his lips. "I didn't realize you were unaware of it."  
  
Victoria: I lowered my head into my hand hiding my eyes from the two of them, feeling quite ashamed. I closed them tightly as a coldness rushed over my body a mixture of hatred and fear. "It was more than slavery," I murmured as my mind shouted a thousand other things. They knew, they all knew and did nothing.  
  
Sands: "I will kill him," I hiss.  
  
Abberline looks down, then back to me. "Not on the grounds, Sheldon."  
  
"Fine," I say quietly. I have a plan now. A goal. "Victoria, perhaps you should stay with Andre." I start.  
  
Victoria: "No!" I shout and pierce him with my eyes. "I will not stay here! I cannot be here!" Anger filled me, but it was not for Sands, it was for all the rest of them, all those below us who sat in leather chairs and drank from expensive goblets trying to be fashionable. "When he dies, I want to see it." I state flatly.  
  
Sands: She makes me smile. "Okey dokey," I tell her. I cannot forget that we're in the presence of power here. "Sir, if you'll excuse us?" I incline my head to him.  
  
"Be careful, Sheldon. Lilith would somehow make it my fault if anything happens to you," Abberline says with a quick smile. He turns his attention to Victoria. "You will find revenge unsatisfying, but perhaps it will help chase the nightmares away."  
  
Victoria: I look up to Abberline. "They'll never be chased away. In the last 250 years I've only had fleeting moments of peace. At least with him gone I can stop running."  
  
I stand and step towards Sands. Then I turn and look into those powerful eyes. "Excuse me, but how long have you know about Connor? I mean about what he's done, been doing?"  
  
Sands: I look at Abberline, wondering if he knows more than I do.  
  
"I knew nothing of what he did to you, Miss Dupree. He's done it to others, one much more recently. She escaped and found her way. into the hands of our enemies. She runs with them now, but words gets back to us." Abberline straightens. "I know you've lived apart, but you may find the clan as useful as Sands does if you investigate our resources."  
  
He looks to me. "McLoud has many thralls. He's wealthy. He may have paid the Viscalli to hunt you down. Then again, the woman who escaped from him may be hunting Miss Dupree here, not realizing she's more of a friend than foe."  
  
Victoria: "I don't understand, why would she come after me?" Then I turn to look at Sands again. "Why would Connor come after. . . " My mouth opens in a wordless response of recognition.  
  
Sands: "What?" I ask. Obviously Victoria is a step ahead of me, for I don't follow. Her eyes have lit up, her mouth with those luscious lips is still open and the wheels of her mind are turning turning turning.  
  
Victoria: It is a moment before I can respond. All the pieces of a long unfinished puzzle are beginning to fall into place. "He hates you because of her," is all I can manage to say.  
  
Sands: In unison, Abberline and I say: "Lilith."  
  
Victoria: I nod. "He despises you."  
  
Sands: "Well, the feeling is mutual." I look from Victoria to Abberline, who is now trying to hide one of his little smiles by lowering his gaze and hiding his eyes behind a thick fringe of lashes. "If you think he hates me, you can't even imagine what he feels for Abberline."  
  
Victoria: Lilith must be very beautiful, to command the desires of such men. I have been a pawn in his game of revenge, what he could not do to her, he has done to me.  
  
"Thank you, I will think about the usefulness, the possibilities of what clan has to offer." I take another step towards Sands, then stop again. "Connor isn't here, in this house then?" I send my mind out into the floors below. If he is here I will know. If he is here, then he is already aware of my presence.  
  
Sands: Abberline laughs. "I am not suicidal. He's been banned from this house." He turns to me. "Good hunting, Sheldon." Then we both stop, our smiles suddenly gone as we sense Lilith.  
  
I turn and face the door to my right, as does Abberline. Always the gentleman, he stuffs out his cigarette. Lilith never did like the smell of them.  
  
Victoria: Now I will see the women who has caused all this. I to straighten up, in order to make a good appearance.  
  
Sands: The door opens and Abberline steps forward. "My dear," he says softly, holding out a hand. I gaze at her, still feeling the power of her. I am bound to her eternally, perhaps no longer a lover, but certainly her son, her brother, her protector if she needed one.  
  
She is smaller than the women of this day and age, petite they call her. Yet even though she barely reaches five feet, she carries her power with her like the queen she truly is.  
  
At first, she has eyes only for Abberline. He kisses her hand then stands aside and her attention is drawn to me and Victoria. A warm smile fills her eyes as her lips grin. "Sheldon," she says in her musical voice. "My dear, you've not visited me in a long time."  
  
And suddenly it's as if the years have not tumbled by. I'm besotted, but not as drunkenly as I was when first turned. I remember my voice, my manners. "Lilith, may I present Victoria Dupree?" I reach for Victoria's hand to draw her forward.  
  
"Victoria?" Lilith tilts her head to the side, studying Victoria. "Frederick, wasn't that your wife's name?"  
  
Abberline nods and I see a shadow pass over his features. After all this time, he still mourns her.  
  
"I'm glad to meet you, Victoria," Lilith says, moving to shake her hand.  
  
Victoria: I watch; intrigued. She is elegant, strong, beautiful. I am drawn to her, filled with a mix of emotions. Fear, love, anger, adoration, jealously. I stand motionless, knowing that I do not belong here, I have no place in this scene.  
  
Sands: Well, this is just peachy. Lilith is telling Victoria she's beautiful, and Victoria is replying politely. I'm waiting for the white elephant to leave the room.  
  
"Victoria and I have a common enemy," I tell Lilith.  
  
Victoria: How strange he behaves, I smile slightly. I nod in agreement as he speaks. "Connor," I murmur.  
  
Sands:  
  
"Jacob," I explain.  
  
Lilith opens her mouth in an 'ah' and nods. "I should have killed him that night, but I needed him, didn't I? Well, Sands, I'm sure you can remedy the situation."  
  
Nothing like getting to the point. "Your wish is my command," I tell her, forgetting not to smirk at the idea of killing Jacob.  
  
Victoria: He fawns over her. Why shouldn't he, she is his maker. I probably would be the same if my situation had been different. "May we go now?" I ask politely.  
  
Sands: I thought we were having fun. Apparently not. I turn to Victoria. "Sure. We can go now." I thought . I don' t know what to think anymore. "Want to hunt down Jacob?"  
  
Victoria: I am surprised that he answers, I had meant that question for Abberline and Lilith. "Actually, I thought we should talk. There are a few things you should know."  
  
Sands: I nod. I wish we'd had time to get a little drunk downstairs before Abberline interrupted us. "We can talk in the car," I tell her. I look at Lilith and Abberline. "It's been a pleasure," I tell them.  
  
Wisely, Abberline says nothing. Lilith smiles at Victoria again. "Take good care of him," she tells Victoria.  
  
"Watch your back," I tell Abberline.  
  
He sends me a quirky smile. "He wouldn't dare."  
  
"He dared with me in broad daylight, if he's the one behind the Viscalli attack," I remind him. I hold an arm out for Victoria, and we start to leave.  
  
Victoria: It feels so strange to stand here and have pleasant conversation with other vampires. Especially since any one of them here could easily do away with me. Another lie Connor always spoke.  
  
Lilith address me. "Take care of him", she says.  
  
"If he'll let me, "I reply. What a foolish remark. I nod a goodbye to Abberline and take Sands' arm.  
  
To Be Continued 


	22. Sands and Victoria Evening 3 part 8

Sands & Victoria Night 3 part 8  
  
Part A  
  
Sands: Hunter mode. I need to get intelligence. "Victoria, looks like you will be meeting the Guardians tonight," I tell her, as we head down the staircase. "We'll need info on what Jacob has been up to recently, his hideouts, his haunts. I expect we'll discover he's turned Viscalli on us."  
  
Thoughts race. Ammo. Weapon for Victoria. "Do you know how to handle a gun?"  
  
Victoria: "No." I pause. "Nothing modern, the old weapons we used to have around the revolution." I tilt my head dismissively. I follow him, his steps are hurried. "Can he do that? Turn Viscalli, I mean?"  
  
Sands: Well, no modern weapons, just peachy. "You can choose to switch clans. It's not done often. Our blood binds us to those who create us and to those who created them. While I'm not linked to Abberline directly, since Lilith has chosen him as her partner, he is my clan leader, too. I could rebel and go von Stern or something." I've never thought to explain this to another before.  
  
Victoria: "This is all so confusing. Lilith is your maker, you're bound to her, that I understand, the rest is sketchy." How ignorant I sound, it makes me so angry. "I'm sorry," I blurt out. "Connor, I mean Jacob never taught me anything. He always said that I was his, and that's all I needed to know."  
  
Sands:  
  
"What a crock." We've gone down two flights. I am anxious to get out of here now. "I can't wait to chop his head off. I should have done it before, but Lilith wouldn't let me. I'll never understand why she turned the bastard."  
  
Victoria: "I know why he turned me, it was because of her." I can feel his anger. "Can you teach me to use a weapon in such a short period of time?" I turn my head to look at his eyes.  
  
Sands: I can't help but smile. "Yeah. What do you mean, because of her? You don't blame Lilith, do you?" This causes me to come to a halt somewhere just below ground level.  
  
Victoria: Oh, hit a nerve. I stop and look directly at him. "No, I blame him. I don't know what caused Connor to be sent away, or what made him so dark. He wanted to lash out. I rejected him so that made me the likely candidate for his wrath."  
  
Sands: "Then what 'her' were you referring to?" Does she realize how loyal I am to Lilith even now that she's chosen Abberline?  
  
Victoria: "No , I meant your Lilith. " This is going to get really ugly I can feel it. "Connor could never have hurt her the way he wanted to. He really loved her in his own twisted way. So instead he hurt me, and as Abberline commented, others too." I take a deep breath and wait.  
  
Sands: "So, you'll help to kill him. It will make you feel better. Believe me, despite what Abberline says." I start back down the stairs.  
  
Victoria: I reach out and touch his arm. "I almost did the last time I saw him, since then I've been running because I knew what he'd do to me when he caught up."  
  
Sands: "Next time, act on your instinct," I tell her. We're finally down to the floor we need. I pull open the door and we step into the hall. Things are buzzing. I guess the little nugget of news I dropped earlier has been disseminated. I see Dante and raise a hand in greeting.  
  
"Hey, my man," I call to him.  
  
He looks up, all business. The whites of his eyes almost look like they're glowing against is dark skin. "Sands," he acknowledges me. I'm always a little intrigued by his accent, a mixture these days of up state New York, French and Ethiopian, all very subtle.  
  
Victoria: Things are very different down here. These vampires are all business. A few look up , but then right back to what they were doing. Weapons line the walls, computers and a bunch of technical stuff. Very interesting, my eyes open wide.  
  
Sands calls out to handsome African, I smile as I hear his accent. It reminds me of the Plantation and better days.  
  
Sands: Dante comes up and we exchange hand shakes. "You've started something," Dante tells me.  
  
"I like to stir the pot," I admit. "Victoria, this is an old friend, Dante." I look at her as I introduce them. "Dante, Victoria Dupree. She and I are going to kill a vampire with Abberline's blessings of course."  
  
Victoria; I smile and extend my hand in a greeting and utter a few pleasantries in French. It's good to hear the old French spoken, especially so beautifully. "Sands thinks I need a gun and seems to believe that you could be of some assistance to me in this manner."  
  
Sands: Dante turns to me. "How can I help?"  
  
I grin. "We need to get intelligence on Jacob aka Conner McLoud. He's on the official hit list as of tonight and I'm going to be the one doing the hitting." I've waited a long long time for this.  
  
Victoria: I decide the best thing for me to do is remain quiet. Dante is all business, just like my initial instincts suggested. I step forward just a bit.  
  
"I get to help, I have a vested interest in seeing McCloud dead." I smile slyly.  
  
Sands: I nod. "Victoria and I plan on having a dandy time of it. Now, Dante, we need to get her a small automatic weapon with the liquid silver bullets." I study him. He's showing no emotions over our announcement. "And she'll need a little target practice, so I'll take her down. Maybe your men will find out where Jacob's been playing lately."  
  
Victoria: I slip my arm lightly around his waist. I like where this is going. After all this time I will finally be rid of that son-of-a-bitch. I feel my pulse quicken at the thought of him lying on the floor in a pool of blood.  
  
Sands: Dante nods. "I'll find you on the shooting range, then. She can start with this." He draws and holds out a small hand gun, Derringer and extra ammo.  
  
"Why, thanks, Dante," I grin. "See you down there."  
  
I smile at Victoria. She's enjoying this as much as me. We head down the hall, down more stairs, and we come out in the darker areas of the mansion. There's less traffic now, but this place is pretty active throughout the year. Low lighting is on, and we go into the shooting range. It's as modern as they come.  
  
"You'll want these," I hand Victoria the sound deadening headgear. "It gets loud down here. You'll still be able to hear my voice. And these." Next I give her goggles. "We must protect our eyes. I, of all people, know that."  
  
Victoria: I laugh a little. It's good that he can make jokes about his eyes. I place the headgear on and settle it over my ears, adjusting their fit. Then I slip the eye goggles on. "There, how do I look?" I smile and tease. "That's not important." I say dismissively," Show me how to use that thing."  
  
Sands: I've got my own gear on, and I take her to one of the shooting positions. "See that target down there?" I point to the black and white target. "You need to hit that, hopefully in the head. You're not going to kill a vampire with body shots. Believe me.  
  
"Now, when you load the gun, you make sure the safety is on and you always aim it down. Whenever someone hands you a gun, you always check to make sure it's safe." I demonstrate to her, "Then if you want to use it, you load the ammunition. This takes six bullets. The one you'll get later holds a clip, like mine. I'll show you clips."  
  
I get behind her. "Hold it in both hands. Take the safety off. Whichever is your dominate eye, use that to sight and fire a test to see where you hit."  
  
Victoria: I sigh, this is a lot to remember. I click the button that he indicated was the safety. The gun is heavier than I thought it would be, especially for something so small. I step up to the firing line and raise the weapon. I shut one eye and look, then I switch. Left eye was better. Aim for the head he said, aim for Connor's ugly head. I squeeze the trigger and fire. Wow! these things have quiet a kick to them, I wasn't prepared for that. I look to Sands, I don't want to be terrible at this! This is too important!  
  
Sands: "Okay, first off, when you shoot, don't close either eye. Chances are someone's shooting back and you need to see what's going on. You want to sort of lock your arms. You're strong, just focus. And don't pull the trigger. Squeeze it." I am sure she can do this.  
  
Victoria: Okay I'll try again. I check off his instructions in my head. Eyes open, lock arms. This part is easy. It's just like establishing the frame before you begin to dance. Focus now, focus on the target. And squeeze the trigger, . . . gently. It fires off, more easily this time. I hope I hit the target!  
  
Sands: She's getting it. "Okay, now fire and stop between each shot to focus. Breathe in. Breathe out and fire at the end of the exhale."  
  
Victoria: I smile, secretly pleased. I raise the gun again and point it at the target. Breath in, breath out. I take a few breaths to calm myself and focus. I fire and breath in. Breath out, and fire. I repeat this process two more times. Then when I fire the gun just clicks. Oh, yes just six bullets. I lower the weapon and then turn to Sands. "How did I do?" I ask apprehensively.  
  
Sands: I push the button to bring the target in. "How do you think you did?" It's whizzing toward us. "Take a look."  
  
Victoria: The target comes whizzing forward and I hold my breath in anticipation. I comes to a stop and I smile. "Not bad? The holes aren't all in one place but they seem to hit the image on the man. "Three in the head and two in the upper torso." But I don't know if it's good enough to do the job."  
  
Sands:  
  
"Once you have the automatic weapon, it will be good enough." I take out my Beretta 98 G Elite II. "This is more of the weight of the weapon you're going to get tonight." I hold it pointed down. "Here's the safety. Here's the ammo clip. This is how you take it out, and shove it in." I put the safety on and hand it to her. "Check it."  
  
Victoria: I put down the smaller weapon on the narrow counter before us. This one is heavier. I point it down and check the weapon. First I pop the clip and examine it. Very interesting. The I pop it back into place. "Send the target back to the other end." I ask. Sands pushes a small button and the paper man floats away.  
  
I disarm the safety and point the weapon . Breath in , breath out. Squeeze the trigger and focus. Wow! This one almost fires itself and the bullets come so quickly! I stop for a moment and then readjust. Focus girl! I aim the weapon and empty it into the target. I lower the weapon and place the safety on before laying it on the table.  
  
"Bring the target back sugar." I smile at him. "Let's see how I did. " I smile shyly.  
  
Sands: I push the return button, but I can see she shredded the target, mostly the head and upper torso. "You'll do just fine, as long as you're not aiming that at me," I tell her.  
  
I take my gun back and put a new clip in, then re-holster it under my left arm.  
  
Victoria: I smile pleased with my accomplishment and lean forward to kiss him quickly. "I'd never point one of those at you. Is that enough target practice?" I ask as I remove the goggles.  
  
Sands: "No." I pull out more bullets for the little pistol. "Practice makes perfect, young lady." I hold them out in my hand. "Lock and load. You can get new targets here." I use my eyes to gesture to the bin beside us.  
  
Victoria: "Alright," I respond as I slip the goggles back on over my eyes. I look to the bin and all the little paper men. "I'll stay here and practice, I assume you'll be talking to your friend Dante." I smile. "If I need help I'm sure there will be someone willing to come to my aid."  
  
Sands: "No. I'm staying here and watching you." I settle back, arms crossed. "Dante will find me when he has info. Him or Quinn. They know where we are."  
  
Victoria:  
  
I reach for a new target and clip him to the hooks. I lean across Sands to push the little button and he whizzes away. I'm surprised at how much I'm enjoying this. I reach for the small gun and check to make sure that the safely is on. Then I reload, point the gun down and remove the safety. I fire, following all the rules Sands has given me. It seems easier this time.  
  
Sands: "See? You're getting the hang of it." She is a fast learner. "Now, put the safety on. Reload the gun. Put it in your waistband. The moment the target starts to come toward you, pull it, take the safety off, and shoot."  
  
Victoria: "In my waistband?" I look at him skeptically.  
  
Sands:  
  
"Yes. Like it's hidden. Like behind your back." I demonstrate. I put the safety on, tuck it behind my back, whip it out and pretend to shoot the target. "See?"  
  
Victoria: I begin to reload the gun and do as I'm told. I raise my eyebrows and smile. I place the gun behind my back and motion for Sands to send the target back. When it reaches the end of the lane and take a deep breath. I pull the gun and fire off the six shots. "Well that's not so easy, is it?"  
  
Sands: Patience, I tell myself. "That's not quite what I meant." I smile, hopefully charmingly. "Here." I hit the button to bring the target whipping towards us, pull my gun, and fire as it approaches. By the time the target arrives, there's no head left. "See?"  
  
Victoria: I place the gun on the counter and lean against its edge. "Show me again." I ask.  
  
Sands: I stare into her eyes. Is she pulling my chain here? "All right." I reload my gun, stick it in my waistband, hang up a new target, send it out, then retrieve it, pulling my gun at the last possible moment and blowing the head out. "Better?" I ask her. Is she smirking at me?  
  
Victoria: "Nicely done." I reach across him for another target and hang it on the hooks. I reload the small gun before me and stick it in the waistband of my black leather pants. "Although I'll never be as good as you," I wink and try again.  
  
Sands:  
  
She's pretty hot standing there with a gun and all. Too bad we're not alone. "Practice makes perfect," I tell her, my mouth about a millimeter form her lovely ear.  
  
Victoria: I feel his breath on my ear and it sends shudders of pleasure down my back. "Now love, how do you expect me to concentrate when you do things like that." My voice almost a purr. I keep my eyes forward and squeeze off the trigger six more times.  
  
Sands: I'm about to reply to her, when I sense someone else has entered the range. I turn around. It's Dante and he's got some lovely things for us.  
  
"Dante, what have you got there?"  
  
He smiles, presenting Victoria with a shoulder holster and an automatic not much smaller than mine. There's several extra ammo clips for both of us. Just like Christmas.  
  
Victoria: I look carefully at the weapon Dante has brought for me. I pull it from the holster and examine it carefully. My brothers Charles and Phillipe would have loved this. "Should I practice more?" I ask Sands, as I buckle the holster around me.  
  
Sands;  
  
"Here, darling." I take the holster and show her how to slip into it just like a jacket. "See, the gun can be under your right or left arm, depending on what you prefer. Most right-handed people put it under the left, and visa versa."  
  
Victoria: I smile for him and raise my arms slightly allowing him to buckle me in. I watch his face as he accomplishes his task. "Being right handed I'll keep it under my left then."  
  
Sands: "You can clip the extra ammo onto the harness, or carry them in your pockets." I turn to Dante. "Any news?"  
  
Dante smiles more broadly. "Yes, Andre says he's been waiting and if you two don't get your asses into the disco soon, he'll have to come find you. Something about a sword."  
  
Victoria: I clip the extra ammo clips onto the belt and listen. "Andre?" I look up. "I thought we were looking for Connor, I mean Jacob?"  
  
Sands:  
  
"Oh. We told Andre we'd meet him and Ernest in the disco, remember?"  
  
Victoria: "Yes, I remember. We became a little distracted." I take off the goggles and then the ear coverings. "But what is all this about a sword?"  
  
Sands:  
  
"If I'm guessing correctly, and I'm sure Dante will tell me if I'm wrong, Andre threatened to stick it up my ass if we don't get over there. Right, Dante?"  
  
Dante nods. "See, Andre is getting predictable," I tell Victoria.  
  
Victoria: I roll my eyes. "Well then we better go," I pat him on the ass. "Wouldn't want to see Andre do that."  
  
I turn towards Dante. He doesn't say much, but that's probably because he can't figure what a nice southern girl is doing with the likes of the psychobeauty. "Thank you for this," I place my hand against the gun.  
  
Sands: "You're welcome," Dante tells her. "Sands, stop by and see Quinn before you take off."  
  
"Yes, sir," I do a mock salute. He shrugs and stands back, allowing us to proceed him out.  
  
Victoria: I take Sands by the arm and lean in closer. "Quinn? He's who you first saw when we arrived. Will he be able to tell us where Connor is?" We walk along and into the darken hallway.  
  
Sands: "If anyone can get us the intel, it's Quinn and his folks." I head us toward the stairs. "We will find Jacob, Victoria. He will die. Trust me, I'm good at this, if I do say so myself. We all have our talents, killing is mine."  
  
Victoria: "Yes, that's what I've heard." I squeeze his arm. "I don't doubt that you will kill Jacob, I just want to be there to watch." My eyes flash at the thought. "Is Andre really upset with you, us for our tardiness?" I tease. I'm pleased we're heading back to the dance floor. I want to see the disco ball in action.  
  
Sands: I open the door to let us out of the stairs. "Oh, yeah, he'll murder me," I say. "Looks like they got things going while we were away."  
  
The boom boom beat of disco echoes up the hall, and the door at the far end is outlined in light.  
  
Victoria: The music is loud, but the light is warm and inviting. I grab his hand and pull him along. "Come on then, let's not keep them waiting much longer."  
  
Sands: I walk beside her, open the door, and bow to usher her in. The music is incredibly loud, rattling the air spaces in my chest. The disco ball is turning, sending out beams of reflected light across the shadowy dance floor. There's several people here dancing. Andre is over by the DJ station. I point him out to Victoria and we head over.  
  
Victoria: We walk across the floor. I'm a little shocked by all the extra people. I'm still not used to seeing so many of our kind and from what I've seen so far, it's a good thing I'm cautious.  
  
Andre looks happy. I tighten my grip on Sands hand, I'm sure he can sense how nervous I am.  
  
Sands:  
  
Victoria seems excited. She squeezes my hand and I squeeze her hand back. I hope all the fuckheads notice she's armed now. I raise a hand towards Andre.  
  
"You finally made it," he has to shout to be heard above the noise.  
  
"That or end up shiskabobbed," I tell him. "I got your rather pointed invitation."  
  
Victoria: I look to Andre. "Where did all these people come from?"  
  
Sands: Andre is grinning. "Ernest didn't know it was private and he invited a few of his closest friends." He shrugs. There must be about fifty people in here. I look around. Maybe there are a lot of the younger ones, like Ernest.  
  
"Want to dance," I ask Victoria as an Abba song comes on.  
  
Victoria: "I'd love to!" My eyes light up. "You lead." I tease. I can follow anything.  
  
Sands: Fucking right I'll lead. I take my jacket off and toss it at Andre, take Victoria's hand and go onto the dance floor. Nothing too John Travolta for me. I like to touch the woman I'm with.  
  
Part B Victoria: He's forceful when he wants to be. I like it. He takes me onto the dance floor. The younger ones clear the way.  
  
Sands: Some of the youngsters don't move fast enough for me, and I give them the evil eye. Let them think I'm singling them out for some future unpleasantness for a while, it will teach them to respect their elders.  
  
Victoria is a great dancer. She's not looked at her feet once. She's watching me. I wonder what she sees. Does she see the deceptive outer shell, or the control freak inside who likes to manipulate everything to his liking?  
  
Victoria: He has a commanding presence. I settle my shoulder into his hand and look into his eyes. I haven't quite figured him out yet. I've caused him an awful lot of trouble in two short days. Eventually he'll question whether I'm worth it. But then again he seems to thrive on trouble.  
  
"You're a very good dancer," I call out over the noise. He's very attached to Lilith, it must be nice to be loved by your maker and not live in a constant fear of them. I like the way he holds onto me, I can't say as I care for most of the modern dancing. Where's the romance in bouncing around the floor never touching?  
  
Sands: The music changes to 'Me and Mrs. Jones' and I move in closer, taking her in my arms. I'm a shitty dancer and I know it, so I don't move a whole hell of a lot when I'm doing it.  
  
We say together and I breathe in her scent. I can't help but touch her neck with my mouth. She tastes so good.  
  
Victoria: The music has changed, its more soulful. He wraps his arms about me and as he engulfs me I follow his every motion, mirroring his movements. He smells so good. I close my eyes and let him carry me away.  
  
Sands: She must know how incredibly sexy she is. I look past her shoulder and see Andre smiling at us. I guess we have his blessing. Oh, shit. Cerese is here. Can't that bitch leave us alone? She's ogling us like we're fresh kill or something. Maybe she needs to feed more often. I turn Victoria and myself around so I don't have to look at that woman.  
  
Victoria: I open my eyes casually and see Andre smiling. I smile in return, then I see Cerese.  
  
"What is with that one? Why does she watch you so? Never mind, don't answer," I chide. "She's angry because she cannot have you for herself."  
  
Sands:  
  
Oh yeah, sure, that's it. "She wants me dead," I tell Victoria. "Thinks I'm the wrong sort." I hold back expletives. "I bet she'd get along with Jacob just fine and dandy."  
  
Victoria: "Wrong sort?!" I flash an angry look in her direction. It startles her. "If she is Jacob's kind then she is dangerous and needs to be disposed of." The words drip from my tongue. Then I shake my head to clear my thoughts. I reach up and caress the side of his face. I tilt my chin and kiss his lips. "You're an interesting man Sheldon Jeffery Sands."  
  
Sands: I smile. "Tasty, too. Want to try?"  
  
Victoria: "Yeesss," I purr as I bare my fangs, biting gently into his lower lip. His taste excites me, sets me on fire! I tighten my grip on him and press my body closer. I feel the eyes of many on the two of us, and their gazes excite me more.  
  
Sands: I exhale, enjoying the rush. She's better than drugs. Well, most drugs. I can taste my own blood on my tongue, but now I want more. Memories of a three day party in France before the Revolution seep into my mind. What an orgy that was!  
  
Leaning into her, I nibble her neck, not breaking the skin, and look up at the other dancers. Some of them are doing the same thing. What the fuck, I'm going to enjoy myself!  
  
I just scratch the surface, sending the slightest hint of her taste into my mouth. Now she's melting into me. I press against her, remembering what we shared in the pantry.  
  
Victoria: I'm happiest when I'm in his arms. My thoughts drift back through the centuries to another night when I felt like this. I release my bite and lick my lips, pick up every last drop of his blood. "You know what I like about you Sands?"  
  
Sands: Now that's a stumper. "What?"  
  
Victoria: "You're complicated." I snuggle closer. "Lots of layers."  
  
Sands: "Just like a wedding cake, huh?"  
  
Victoria: I laugh and lean back to look at him. "That's not the image I would have chosen. " Then I lean back into his body. "I know there are many things we do not know about each other, and many things we would probably both like to keep hidden. A poet I like once said that everyman is like the moon with a dark side they show to no one."  
  
Sands: "That's good. I'll remember that one. Do you remember who said it?"  
  
Victoria: "Mark Twain. I liked him very much."  
  
Sands: I humpf. He was a clever fellow. I'm more interested in Victoria at the moment. "You know," I tell her. "If you're place is secure, we could go back there and have Quinn phone us when he hears something."  
  
Victoria: "I think it should be. Let's go." I take his hand. "But there's something that I want to say to you, about Lilith." When I say her name he stops. "When we were in Abberline's study and Lilith came. I heard her in my thoughts before she even spoke to me, I knew I came from her, belonged to her in some way. She knew all that had happened to me and spoke to me silently about my time with Jacob. I have never spoken about those times. She said that you and I had much in common, that it was fortunate that we should meet." I look at him hesitantly.  
  
Sands: "She created your creator. That's all." I'm a little puzzled here. What does she mean she spoke to her? In her head or something? Can Victoria read minds? Or is this some new power of Lilith's? Too many questions.  
  
Victoria: "Still want to go?" I ask. I know he's hiding, I know that is not what Lilith meant. But he wants to let this go, so I let it go.  
  
Sands: "Yes. I want some intelligence, but maybe that will take a while." I pull back to watch her face. "We'll need to give your number to Quinn."  
  
Victoria: I look at him for a moment; watching. I've stepped so far out of normal routine in the last 24 hours. It's the routine that's kept me alive. Giving out my phone number, well that's just inviting trouble. "All right, but I'm holding you responsible if I have anyone knocking at my door trying to hunt me down." I give him a sort of half smile.  
  
Sands: She keeps surprising me. I'm still trying to figure out what she meant about Lilith talking to her in her head. It's hard to think clearly when I can still taste her blood on my lips. "Quinn is there to protect us."  
  
Victoria: "Quinn?" I squeeze his hand, "Is he more protection than you are?"  
  
Sands: I feel a smile coming on. "He's chief Guardian. He protects us from our enemies and weaker vampires from the other clans, or even some of our own. Abberline doesn't condone us murdering one another. He's brought a little order to the chaos." I reach up to brush a strand of hair off her face.  
  
Victoria: I close and eyes briefly as he brushes the strand of hair from my face. "All right. But for the record, I thought you were doing just fine." I smile again. I'm a little confused, so many rules, contingencies. Connor's way was simpler, but too much to bear.  
  
Sands:  
  
"You haven't seen a real war. It's bad. If that's what Jacob has stirred up, we'll need to work, collaborate with others. Maybe even other clans"  
  
I see her face cloud. "Don't worry. We will win," I assure her. I can't help myself. I lean in and kiss her, taking her more firmly in my arms.  
  
Victoria: His embrace is welcomed, I give into his kiss fully and completely. When our lips part I brush my lips against his cheek and whisper into his ear. "I'm glad you are so confident."  
  
Sands: I look into her face, studying the green depths of her eyes. "It's not me, it's the clan. That's why I hunt with them. They know their stuff. We have scientists, thralls, who discover things for us, like the bullets we use these days." I sigh. "Lilith and Abberline look forward, not back like half the other clans. We're not clinging to the past."  
  
Victoria: "I suppose that's a very good thing, ensuring the survival of the species." I run my hand along the length of one of his arms. "I feel better about things. Thank you for pushing me into the twenty- first century. Thank you for teaching me to shoot."  
  
Sands: "Teaching you to shoot won't save your life, Victoria. You need to be alert and willing to do whatever it takes to survive." I look around. "There's a balance to life." I force myself to shut up before she thinks I'm a raving lunatic.  
  
Victoria: I look away, diverting my eyes. "I've done some fairly horrible things in order to survive. Things that a true, ... "I stop. It's probably better that I don't finish that thought.  
  
Sands: "A true what?"  
  
Victoria: "Nothing, never mind."  
  
Sands: "We do what we need to do to survive, Victoria. It's the only way. Nothing to be ashamed of."  
  
Victoria: I return my gaze to his and nod. The slow song is almost over, the last chords are playing out.  
  
Sands: I'm about to say something to her, something to make the sadness go away from her eyes, when there's a flash. Blinking I look around. Some asshole has a camera and is taking pictures. What the fuck? The flash comes again, and I put a hand up to protect my eyes. "You trying to blind me?" I yell at the fuckmook. Another flash. Okay, now it's time to kill someone. "What are you doing?" I shout/growl.  
  
Victoria: I jump back alarmed at the situation that has arisen! Many other couples on the dance floor follow suit. Who is taking the pictures? I quickly scan the room seeing if I can locate the assailant. My anger rises.  
  
Sands: I'm still seeing spots, but my time of blindness taught me something. I hear footsteps and run after them. As we get close to the doors, someone in a dark suit runs through and slams the door behind himself.  
  
Victoria: "Are you all right?" I ask coming up quickly behind Sands.  
  
Sands: I grab hold of the door knob, but it's locked. I put a foot up against the wall and start pulling. "Watch out," I yell over my shoulder. It's a very heavy door, but I can hear the hardware giving way.  
  
Victoria: I back out of the way seeing the hinges bending under the strength of his pull. I'm glad I'm carrying a gun now. I knew we weren't safe here.  
  
Sands: The door shudders then comes off its hinges. I toss it aside and go out into the hall. Whoever it was is gone now. It took too long to get the door off. Shit!  
  
I turn to see Victoria looking concerned, angry. She doesn't understand. I take her arm and start walking. I hear Andre calling my name and I pause allowing him time to catch up.  
  
Victoria: Andre calls out. It seems to calm Sands momentarily. "Andre, what happened? Did you see who it was?" I ask quickly.  
  
Andre: Of course Victoria doesn't understand. I look to Sands to see how he's handling this.  
  
"Victoria, these sort of things happen."  
  
Sands: "Yeah, just like shitting clockwork. Did you know that guy?"  
  
Andre: "No. One of the younger ones, no doubt."  
  
Victoria: "Will one of you two please tell me what's going on!" I shout putting my hand on my hips. "Was that trouble or just some fool taking pictures for a scrap book?"  
  
Andre: "Not exactly a scrap book. We have our own.what you would call newspaper. It's very secret. Written in a code of sorts. We have our own celebrities." I look at Sheldon to see how he's taking this. He's glaring, but I know it's not directed at me. "Sheldon is one of them. Everything he does seems to fascinate them."  
  
Sands:  
  
"Yeah, I'm fucking fascinating."  
  
Victoria: "You mean he's," I shift my weight, "He and I are going to end up in some gossip column to amuse these whelps!" I gesture angrily to the crowd on the dance floor.  
  
Sands:  
  
"Definitely you." I have to smile. "You were probably their target tonight."  
  
Andre:  
  
"Sheldon has broken many a camera in his day. I have many photos of him in my collecting. He's giving the finger in several." I have to laugh.  
  
Victoria: "Me! Why me?!" I'm angry, but the idea of Sands smashing cameras is amusing.  
  
Sands:  
  
"Why? Because you're a new face. Because you're with me. They don't need a hellava lot of reasons for it. I know that one," I jerk a thumb at the empty hallway, "was a vampire. He ran too fast to be a thrall."  
  
Andre: "Put it to bed, Sheldon. If you weren't so darned interesting, they wouldn't hound you so. And you, Victoria, you're beautiful, a mystery to them. That takes a while to get over."  
  
I hand Sands his jacket.  
  
Victoria: I'm beginning to settle down when the fear strikes me. I turn to Sands, panic in my eyes. "But if he sees it , he'll know I'm here. The first thing he'll do is come after me." I reach for his arm. "You don't think he'll see it do you?"  
  
Sands: I shrug into my jacket then put my hand over hers. "The entire clan is now his enemy. You heard Abberline. We'll all be shooting for him. He'll be in that same newspaper. Hunting season is open, my dear. He won't come anywhere near the clan house."  
  
Andre:  
  
"It might be safer for you to stay here, Victoria."  
  
Victoria: "Oh, no! I don't think so. At least in my own apartment I know exactly where am I and who my friends are. Here, that's a whole other story."  
  
I look between the two. I was never keen on the idea of coming here in the first place. The entire evening has been more than overwhelming for me. I look into Sands warm eyes looking for answers. If he tells me to stay I will.  
  
Sands:  
  
"You heard her," I tell Andre. I couldn't stand the idea of her staying here. "He doesn't know where you live, Victoria," I remind her.  
  
Victoria: I smile, relieved that he's not going to make me stay in Abberline's house. I step closer to him, the two of us firm in our resolve.  
  
Sands: Andrew shrugs. "It's your heads." He reaches up to grab my shoulder. "Don't let anything happen to you, my brother."  
  
I smile. "Nothing will happen to me. Even blind they couldn't kill me," I remind him.  
  
Victoria: I tilt my head as my facial expression softens. "I'll do my best." Then I turn my attention back to Sands looking up into his face. "Does this means we're leaving now? After we tell Quinn how to reach us of course."  
  
Sands: "Yes. Good night, Andre." I pat his arm, then turn and take Victoria's arm. "We need to get to the Guardian's level."  
  
We go down to the level where the Guardians have their HQ. I think Victoria is getting a feel for the layout here.  
  
We go into Quinn's office. He's there with Darius.  
  
"Quinn, we're leaving," I announce. "Got anything for us?"  
  
Victoria: I feel more at easy once we are alone, making our way through the less used passages of this great house. Soon we are back to the Guardians abode. Sands leads us into an office where two rather serious looking vampires are engaged in a conversation. Once again I do my best to become invisible as Sands begins to speak.  
  
Sands: "We have had reports of Jacob here in New York," Quinn tells us. "He has not come here. He's laying low. Darius is doing some electronic sleuthing to try and track down his bank accounts. That may take a while, thought."  
  
"So, perhaps a little more ammo for the road," I tell him. "Some more for Victoria, too." I cross my arms.  
  
Victoria: It's good to hear that he has not been to the clan house. Unfortunate that I chose to come to New York at this time. He almost had me in Paris. Well, it was foolish to return to that place anyway. I just missed Claude.  
  
"He kept most of his money in Swiss Bank accounts under different names of course. " I quietly interrupt.  
  
Sands: "That we know," Darius speaks up. "But the Swiss are very good at keeping their secrets. We have to work on it from the other side."  
  
He has a point.  
  
"I think" Quinn speaks slowly, "You should take some thralls as protection. They can keep watch during the day just in case Jacob has thralls of his own primed to move in once he figures out where you are."  
  
I shrug. "Victoria and I are old enough to stay awake during the day," I assure him.  
  
"All day and all night every day and every night?" Quinn counters.  
  
Victoria: I arch an eyebrow. Well the man has a point, smug as he is. "That's what security systems are for." I mummer.  
  
Sands: All three of us look at her.  
  
"There isn't a security system created we can't get around," Quinn tells her.  
  
Part C Victoria: I narrow my eyes. "Well I wouldn't know that, now would I?" Being that I've done my best to avoid our kind for the better part of the last 150 years. There are some things I just detest, but I hold my ground.  
  
Sands: "She's been living in a cave," I say straight-faced.  
  
Victoria: I nudge him with my elbow.  
  
Sands: "Even humans can get through security systems," Darius says seriously.  
  
"Okay, so what thralls did you have in mind?" I ask.  
  
Victoria: I decide it would be better to remain quiet and listen.  
  
Sands: I hate the idea of thralls, but I'm willing to listen to Quinn because he's always had a level head.  
  
"We have Jackson and Klein. Both are excellent shots and have all the training necessary to keep surveillance going. You'll need to transfer their loyalty to you."  
  
I frown. "Who controls them now?"  
  
"Vincent and Debbie, believe it or not," Quinn tells me with a little grin.  
  
"Great." I look at Victoria. She looks very serious. "Okay, check with them and ask if I can take their thralls."  
  
Victoria: Debbie? That's a terrible name for a vampire. I smirk. Transfer their loyalty?  
  
Sands: "No need," Darius speaks up. "They're Guardians' thralls, so anyone of us can use them. This is official business, so they're yours. I'll get them for you."  
  
He steps out and I look to Victoria. "So, cave dweller, are you okay with this?"  
  
Victoria: "Having humans lurking about my home? I guess I'll have to be." My eyes begin to twinkle. I lean a little closer to him and whisper, "Keep it up and I'll make you pay later."  
  
Sands: "Promises promises."  
  
I smile at her. "If you want, you can control one and I'll take the other. I can show you how to get the thralls to be loyal to you."  
  
Victoria: "I always keep my promises." I tease. "But yes, perhaps it would be wise for me to learn to enthrall."  
  
Sands: "Do you want Jackson or Klein? And don't ask me which is which, because I don't know them."  
  
Victoria: "I reserve that decision until I can meet them," I reply.  
  
Sands:  
  
"Fair enough."  
  
I lean back against the credenza waiting for Darius to bring the thralls. "First off, you'll need to feed from them with intent that they do your will."  
  
Victoria: "You mean I should concentrate on that fact as I drink from them?" My arms were still crossed but I was very interested. Sands takes everything in stride.  
  
Sands: "Yes, exactly. Project your will into them. Do not allow them to drink from you. That's all they really want, and you can't give it to 'em. Remember that. They'll try to coerce you into giving it to them."  
  
Victoria: I look at him skeptically. "I would never let a human drink from me."  
  
Sands:  
  
I can't help but smile. "How do you think you were made, sugarbutt?"  
  
Victoria: "Yes I understand that, but I would not let a human, especially one I have never known drink from me."  
  
Sands: "Good."  
  
I hear them coming and turn around to see what we have to pick from. One looks like a male model, except he has cold, calculating eyes. He should have been C.I.A. He would fit right in. Maybe he is C.I.A. The other is the short smart kid who showed us the pantry. I turn to Victoria. "Which one?"  
  
Victoria: I am displeased to see the human from the pantry. I didn't like him and at the time, wanted to snap his neck. I lean in close to Sands. "Not him," indicating the thrall with my eyes.  
  
Sands:  
  
"Bit surprise. Okay, you take Mr. GQ and I'll take PantryGuy." I turn to look at them. "What is your name?" I ask PantryGuy.  
  
"Klein," he answers.  
  
"That would make you Jackson," I address the taller one. "I think Victoria wants to do a little business with you."  
  
Victoria: I shift my eyes from Sands to the tall human before me. I unfold my arms and motion him to come with a smile. He returns the smile and steps forward. "Do you have a first name, or is it simply Jackson?" I ask letting my accent slip through.  
  
Sands: I try not to focus on what Victoria is doing, but hone my attention down to Klein. He knows what's expected and I gesture him into the next room.  
  
"Are you Debbie's?" I ask. He smiles slowly and nods. I know she likes smart ones and figured as much. "Okay, Klein, I'm Sands."  
  
"I know who you are." He's smiling more broadly now.  
  
"Okay, let's do this."  
  
He watches me as I draw closer to him.  
  
Victoria: Out of the corner of my eye I see Sands slip into another room. The human before me lower his eyes to mine. He seems pleased. "My name is Samuel." he replies.  
  
"Samuel, you know what I want?"  
  
He nods and turns his head sweeping his hair from his skin. I see his pulse beating beneath the surface. I smile, and run my tongue across the tip of my teeth.  
  
Sands: It doesn't take me long to psych myself up to do this. I capture his gaze and hold it. He can't look away. His smile fades and there's a hunger in his eyes now. I move closer to him and I can see the pulse in his neck, hear the rushing in and out of his breathing. He's excited by this, eager for it. I maintain control as I stand right up against him, the length of my body against his.  
  
Now I can feel his heart beating. After all I drank the other night, I'm not really hungry. This is something else: a need to control and dominate this creature. I lean forward, inhaling his scent, focusing on him being bound to me. My tongue touches the skin of his neck and he sighs.  
  
Victoria: "Samuel come closer." He takes another step forward as I reflect on Sands instruction. I look into Samuel's eyes, they are clear and desire my attention. I am excited by this and take long breaths to control my thoughts. I wrap my arms around his neck and shoulders and sink my teeth into his skin. He calls out! His blood flow past my teeth and I fill him with my thoughts. My eyes remain open gazing into his flesh. You will be mine, you will do as I bid, you will serve me  
  
Sands: My hands holding him aren't necessary, but I do anyway. Now I can feel my appetite stir. There's a roaring in my ears. It's Klein's pulse. It beats at me and I bite down on his neck just enough to draw blood, tasting his blood and lashing out at him with my will. He is mine. His thoughts belongs to me. His life belongs to me and he's happy about it. I drink from him, boring into him with my intent, enjoying the sensation of his heart racing against mine. He's groaning with pleasure now, sagging against me, his hands lightly holding me.  
  
My lips pull away from the small wound in his neck. His human blood scent fills my senses as I lick his blood from my lips. I feel his pulse slowing down. "Mine," I mouth the words. I straighten and find his dilated gaze locked on me, his lips parted, his hands still holding me.  
  
Victoria: The human slips his arm around my waist as I drink, it distracts me momentarily. I don't want to lose him! I clamp down hard and feel his heart beat quicken. I force my will upon him, you belong to me, serve only me. Suddenly I feel his thoughts! He is excited about holding me against himself. He wants more. My eyes reflect the shock I feel at knowing this information. I pull away , running my tongue across the bite marks in his neck. He locks eyes with me and smiles. "Release me," I command.  
  
Sands: Klein is mine. I can feel it. I don't like doing this, dealing with humans, but it's simple enough. He seems to have enjoyed it. We both politely ignore the fact that we've gotten aroused by this.  
  
"You're going to help protect me and Victoria," I tell him, all business now.  
  
"Yes, sir," he answers automatically.  
  
"Call me Sands."  
  
"Okay, Sands."  
  
Well, I guess that's it. "Get whatever weapons you use, gear, a change of clothes, whatever. You and Jackson will need walkie-talkies, four of them."  
  
He nods and goes out of the room.  
  
Victoria: My new thrall does as I command, his arm returning to his side. "You are going to help protect Sands and I, you and Klein." He nods quietly. Good at least he's quiet.  
  
Sands: I'm curious about how Victoria is doing. I return to Quinn's office. She's talking to Jackson. "Hey," I greet her.  
  
Victoria: I move my torso to see Sands return. I walk past Samuel towards him. "What do I do with him now?" I ask, a shy smile on my face.  
  
Sands: I must look stupid, standing there blinking at her. "Klein's gone to get his stuff and things we'll need. Why don't you tell him to get his weapons?"  
  
Victoria: I turn around to face Jackson, he stands there quietly waiting to serve me. "Go and gather your weapons, whatever you'll need to do the job."  
  
He nods and exits. I turn back to Sands. "I'm not sure about all this. I don't like some of the thoughts I saw stirring around in the thick head of his." I place a hand on my hip.  
  
Sands: My eyes narrow. "That's the second time tonight you've talked about that. What do you mean?"  
  
Victoria: "When I bit him," I point behind me in the direction of Jackson's trail. "When I had connected, when I had him bound to me, I heard his thoughts, knew his desires, some of which were very unpleasant, as flattering as they may have been meant." I look into Sands' eyes willing him to understand me.  
  
Sands:  
  
"You can hear other's thoughts? How do you do that?"  
  
Victoria: Now I an really confused. "Can't you?"  
  
Sands: "No." I'm slightly distracted by the taste of Klein in my mouth. "Were you psychic before you were turned?"  
  
Victoria: "No," I pause for a moment. "This is just something that surfaced with me a few years back. I assumed it was something we all could do." I look up into his eyes. "Lilith can do it, she spoke to me in my mind while you and Abberline were speaking."  
  
Sands:  
  
"You said something about that, but I didn't understand that you really meant it." I look up to see Quinn listening to us. "Have you heard of this before?" I ask him.  
  
"It's rare. She may have inherited it from someone she took."  
  
Victoria: "Some one I took?" I look to Quinn. "I thought it just ran in the blood line."  
  
Sands: "Could Jacob do it? I never heard anything about it."  
  
Victoria: "If he could it was never anything he spoke about, and he's too arrogant to keep something like that a secret." I look back to Quinn. "Please don't speak of this. I don't want it to get out."  
  
Sands: Her words make me think. "What about me?" I ask her. "Can you read my mind, too?" She never indicated she could, but maybe she's been reading me all along. I glance over at Quinn.  
  
Victoria: "No, " I smirk, "Your thought are your own, you're a closed book." I slip my hands behind my back. "Usually I can read my victims, sometimes another vampire, but that is rare." The truth is I never really tired to read another vampire.  
  
Sands:  
  
"But you and Lilith could do it? I don't get this." I look from Victoria to Quinn.  
  
"Maybe it's a female thing," Quinn shrugs.  
  
"Oh." I hadn't thought of that. I hope Jacob can't do it. It would make tracking us down too easy for him.  
  
I hear footsteps and look up to see Klein and Jackson returning. "Ready?" I ask them. They nod. I raise a brow at Victoria.  
  
Victoria: I smirk at the thought of it being a female thing. Sands looks at me strangely, I wonder if he trusts me, or is concerned about his privacy. I'll have to reassure him of it later. I wait for him to offer me his arm, "Lead the way."  
  
Sands: "We have to get your coat upstairs. I don't want the camera freak or our un-fan club to see that we are leaving with these two." I glance at the thralls. "Why don't we have them go out through the tunnels and we'll pick them up at the end of the drive?"  
  
Victoria: I nod, "Worried that they will attract attention? It isn't like we having been doing that all night long." I smile.  
  
Sands: "No, worried that there might be some here in league with Jacob."  
  
Victoria: My eyes grow wide with surprise. "I hadn't thought of that," then my expression changes, "But I thought you said he was now the enemy of the entire house?"  
  
Sands: "Have you ever dabbled in espionage?"  
  
Victoria: I glance at him sideways with a silly little grin, "I am a product of the 18th centuries social circle."  
  
Sands:  
  
"Surely you had traitors and spies."  
  
Victoria: "Of course, the entire age was, . . .never mind, you're just toying with me now."  
  
Sands:  
  
"When it comes to survival, I don't joke." I'm wondering if she doesn't understand this or if she's pulling my chain here.  
  
Victoria: I touch his arm, "I know you don't and I'm very glad to fallen into the company with the likes of you." I smile for him genuinely.  
  
Sands: She mentioned 'the company.' Does she know? Did I tell her?  
  
"Klein, Jackson, go out through the tunnels and we'll meet you at the end of the drive. Skidattle."  
  
I flash a quick smile at Victoria as I usher her out of the room. I salute Quinn with a grin. "Night."  
  
Victoria: We walk quickly. "We've had an interesting night."  
  
Sands: "It's just started," I remind her. It can't even be eight o'clock yet. "We can let the boys out about a block from your building so they can scout it out."  
  
Victoria: Sometimes when he looks at me a see a flash of something behind those eyes. Something unsure, something wild. It's a little disconcerting, but it could just be the situation we've been thrust into.  
  
Sands: I imagine Victoria's going through something of a culture shock. She's handling it pretty well. I usher her towards the stairs and we climb in silence, the only sound our shoes. I feel a sense of dread as we come out on the ground floor. I wonder if that jerk with the camera is hanging around.  
  
Victoria: He's uneasy, I can feel it. I wonder what will await us up top. Probably that horrible Cerese, she's managed to be everywhere this evening. "Really only eight? I would have thought it was much later."  
  
Sands: "Once more into the breach," I tell her.  
  
Victoria: I put on a pleasant face. "As long as you're here, I'll endure."  
  
Sands: I have to grin. "We'll get your coat and vamoose."  
  
Victoria: "Vamoose? That means to go ?" He's spent a lot of time somewhere where Spanish is spoken. I've heard a few phrases come from him over the past two days.  
  
Sands: "Yeah. Like in a hurry." I gesture her towards the servants who guard everyone's coats. "Here."  
  
Victoria: "Well we have made it to the cloak room with being assaulted. That's a step in the right direction." I whisper.  
  
Sands: I walk her to the cloak room, ignoring the vampires still milling around the entrance to the main ballroom. Their talking quiets, as if they're all waiting to hear what we have to say. I am forced to look at them, because I still want to rip the heart out of the guy taking my photo.  
  
Victoria: I look through the others. The small annoyance created by them will soon pass. Sands seems distracted, not a wonder with what has been going on. I begin to smile. They are all waiting and watching. Fine let them watch!  
  
Sands: I walk Victoria over to the cloak room and while she gets her coat, I stare back at the rude little crowd. Too bad Andre's not here to fend them off.  
  
Victoria: I slip into my black woolen coat and button it up over the gun Quinn provided me with. Looking over at Sands as he returns their stares it appears if he is standing guard. A girl could grow to like this kind of protection. I pull my hair out from under the collar and slip one hand into my pocket. "Ready."  
  
Sands: I'm seriously tempted to give this crowd the finger, but for Victoria's sake, I restrain myself and walk her out to the car as quickly as possible. Klein and Jackson should be heading down the tunnels by now.  
  
I open the door for Victoria, and we go through. As it shuts behind me, I sigh in relief. 


	23. Sands and Victoria Evening 3 part 9

Sands and Victoria Night 3 part 9  
  
Part A  
  
Victoria: I feel as if a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. "You know how to show a lady an interesting evening." I cock my head and look up through my long lashes. "Now what?" He opens the car door for me and I slip in.  
  
Sands: "Home." I get in the car and we take off. It feels good to leave the crowd behind. I can feel the weight of the guns, and it feels like I'm at home again.  
  
Victoria: I lean my head against the leather seat, watching the scenery going by.  
  
Sands: As we get to the end of the driveway, I slow down and pull over. I look for our thralls. I can sense Klein is somewhere near by. I turn to Victoria. "Can you feel Jackson?"  
  
Victoria: "Humm?" His words bring me out of my thoughts. "Jackson?" I lift my head and look slowly around. "He's just outside the gate. To the right."  
  
Sands: "Okay." I put the car into first gear and edge forward, blinking the headlights. The two men came out of the darkness. Klein walks around to sit behind Victoria. Jackson gets in behind me.  
  
"Here's the plan," I tell them. "We'll drop you off a block from Victoria's apartment. You scan the area, we'll drive around the block, then into the parking. You go in through the front door once we've had a chance to get upstairs. One of you needs to patrol outside the building. One of you will come up and stay inside." I looked in the rearview mirror. "I hope your coats are warm enough, gentlemen."  
  
Victoria: At that remark and Klein and Jackson shoot looks at each other. "Yes, sir, sufficiently warm," Klein responds as he opens the door to the back seat and slides in.  
  
Jackson silently nods and reaches for the handle and seats himself behind Victoria. He leans forward a bit and places his hand on the leather seat. "Do you need anything?" he asked in a low whisper.  
  
A little shocked by his inquiry I blinked and paused before responding. "No Samuel, I'm fine."  
  
He sat back and crossed his arms eyes facing forward.  
  
Sands: I put the car in gear and we drive off of the estate's property. I watch Jackson. He's a little too attentive for my taste. "We're looking for Viscalli, but there may be one of our own in cahoots with them."  
  
Victoria: The two figures in the back of the car nod in unison and begin scanning the area as we drive. I am still uncomfortable with the idea of relying on humans. I shift my attention to the road ahead, lending my eyes to the task at hand.  
  
"Sir?" Klein asks. "Anyone we know?"  
  
Sands: "Yeah. He has a few names. I knew him as Jacob. Victoria said he's calling himself Conner McLoud now. Know him?"  
  
The snow is starting. At first it's a few white dots falling in the headlights' beams, then it starts coming down in earnest. I drive a little more slowly along the unlit back road. We'll be at the highway pretty soon.  
  
Victoria: Snow? It's early in the year for snow. Growing up in the south and being deprived of the vision of a white Christmas for so many years settling instead for the hot, sticky stagnant winter, punctuated by the occasional thunder storm. A true winter is welcomed.  
  
Jackson clears his throat capturing our attention. "I know him," he states simply, starting at Sands through the rearview mirror with those cool blue eyes.  
  
That familiar uneasiness rises within as he admits to a familiarity. Was it wise to enthrall this one?  
  
Sands: We pull onto the highway that will take us south to Manhattan. "How do you know him?" I ask Jackson.  
  
Victoria: I turn in my seat. I want to hear this. Jackson looks at me and smiles. I shut my mind to him. I don't want to hear all those thoughts of his. Then he looks over at Klein, before returning his attention to the question.  
  
"I heard the stories mostly. Seen him once down on the Avenue of the Americas a few months ago lurking about. Bad news that one." His voice is smooth, calculated.  
  
Sands: I cast Victoria a quick glance. What's up with this kid? "What exactly do you mean by bad news? Did you see anything?"  
  
Victoria: Jackson locks eyes with Sands. "I'm trained to notice things. Protection is our business." He indicates Klein and himself with a quick flip of his wrist. "He has that look about him, you know someone out for trouble."  
  
Klein leans forward. "We've read the reports on him, sir. The clan has had a directive to watch him for several years."  
  
Jackson begins to speak again. "He's been known to socialize with Viscalli and Von Strom, for business and pleasure." His words drop off.  
  
Sands: Yeah, pleasure, and they say I'm twisted, I think to myself. "So that's why Abberline wasn't surprised. He probably had this all figured out before he even spoke to us."  
  
Victoria: I twist in my seat and lean my head against the headrest. I sigh of frustration escapes my lips.  
  
Sands: Hearing her frustration I say, "Yeah, me, too." I speak so softly, only she can hear me. The further south we go, the less we see of the snow. It's turning to sleet and rain here. The windshield wipers are doing double time squeaking back and forth across the glass.  
  
Victoria: "Are we going back to the house?" I ask to break the silence.  
  
Sands: I'm confused. "What house?"  
  
Victoria: "Sorry." I smile. "My apartment. I tend to call everything a house."  
  
Sands: "Did you want to change our plans and go somewhere else?"  
  
Victoria: "What time is it?" I sit up and straighten my coat, unbuttoning the top few buttons.  
  
Sands: I glance at the illuminated clock on the dashboard. "If this is set correctly, it's 8:30. Why?"  
  
Victoria: "Let's go the Met first, just for a little while." I smile leaning towards him.  
  
"Excuse me, Miss Dupree," Jackson interrupts, "Is that wise?"  
  
Sands: I cast a withering glance at Jackson, then look at Victoria. "By the time we're back in the city it will be close to eleven."  
  
Victoria: "Oh, all right." I move closer to him as he drives.  
  
I open my mind and speak to Jackson. "Samuel, what are you doing?" He smiles at me pleased that I have begun this private conversation in his head.  
  
"Nothing but my duty," he thinks back. "My duty is to protect you, is it not?" His eyes twinkle.  
  
"You best watch your step," I reprimand. He nods his head silently.  
  
Sands: "Why not turn on the radio to something you like," I suggest to Victoria. "And you two," I address our passengers, "you'd better get some sleep now why you can."  
  
Klein nods. Jackson seems preoccupied. I knew a lot like him when I was in the Agency. He better do his job.  
  
Victoria: Klein leans back and shuts his eyes. It amazing how fast he seems to slip into sleep. His blond curls bouncing with the vibrations of the car.  
  
I lean forward and press the on button to the Bose stereo system. It comes alive with color and sound. I press the C.D. button and it clicks and hums as the system shifts to discs.  
  
"Amazing invention. Remember how music used to be?" Before he can answer Nora Jones comes on and her soft voice fills the car. "Waited 'til the break of dawn . . ." I interrupt, "Or something harder perhaps? Pushing button #2. Led Zeppelin begins to blast. I see one of Klein's eyes pop open and a faint smile appear.  
  
Sands: I liked Nora. Her voice is all sleepy-smoky. "I think something a little softer if our new bodyguards are going to get a nap in."  
  
Victoria: I laugh, "Okay, Nora it is." I press the button and she resumes her singing where she had left off. I turn my head. "Jackson, get some rest," I command. "Yes Miss Dupree." He responds softly.  
  
"Mind if I slide over?" I ask returning my attentions to the man behind the wheel.  
  
Sands: I hold up a welcoming arm in silent answer.  
  
Victoria: I unbuckle and slide across the wide leather seat, settling beneath the comfort of his arm. I slip one arm lightly around his middle as the music fills the car. The road is dark this evening except for the long blurs of light that zip by blackness. I lower my voice so only he can hear. "So, is Jacob after you or me? We never did settle that discussion."  
  
Sands: "I think the unequivocal answer would be me." It feels good to have her with me, touching me. It's comforting. "If there's trouble, you should duck out."  
  
Victoria: "Duck out?" I slowly run my hand up and down across his side. "I don't think so," I argued.  
  
Sands:  
  
"Tonight was the first time you've ever held a gun. You need to run if there's trouble." I pause, smiling. "I don't want you shooting me."  
  
Victoria: "Then you should have thought about that before you handed it to me." I tease and then kiss his cheek. "But really you shouldn't argue with a southern lady, sooner or later we always get our way."  
  
Sands: "Is that so?" I ask. The possibilities are floating through my mind as we drive through the rain. "If we're out-numbered, there's no use both of us getting caught or killed. You should run back to the clan and get help. Promise me you'll do that."  
  
Victoria: I hear the urgency in his voice and concede. "All right, I promise. But if you end up getting yourself killed, I'll never forgive you Sheldon Jeffery Sands."  
  
Sands: "Oh, geez, that wasn't my plan," I say in my tourist voice.  
  
Victoria: I laugh and thump him on the chest.  
  
Sands: "Are you abusing me?"  
  
Victoria: "Only if you want me to." Mischief is in my mind.  
  
Sands:  
  
"Shh. Not in front of the children."  
  
Victoria: I laugh again and it feels good. I roll my head against him. "All right, but when we get home," I let my words drop.  
  
Sands:  
  
"Promises." Okay, so it's cliché, but it makes her smile. "Tell me about your electronic surveillance. Do you have cameras inside your apartment?"  
  
Victoria: My eyes open and my playful thoughts are disrupted. "No, not inside the apartment. Only on the elevator, the stairwells, the balcony, the hallway and of course the front door. The system can be view from any TV in the place. I hope that will be sufficient?"  
  
Sands:  
  
"That's good. It's a closed signal? No one can tap into it from the outside?"  
  
Victoria: "As far as I know it is." I reply.  
  
Sands: I watch the skyline of Manhattan very far off in the distance and disappearing as the clouds drop lower. I wonder what is going on with Jacob. "Are you sure Jacob hasn't followed you any time recently? He doesn't know." I sense something. I look in the rearview mirror. Something is not right.  
  
Victoria: I look up at him. "You were saying?"  
  
Sands: Alarms are going off in my head. It's hard to tell at night in the rain and snow, but two, three, maybe four cars that were behind us right after we got on the interstate are still there. The same ones. "I think we're being followed."  
  
Victoria: I sit up quickly and begin to turn my head to look. "Should I wake the boys?"  
  
Sands: I raise my voice so the thralls can hear me. "Klein, wake up," I call. I can see him looking at me in the rearview mirror. "Take a look behind us. What do you see?"  
  
Victoria: Klein quickly responds. "Yes sir." I didn't like him at first, but he's very obedient. Klein nudges Jackson awake. I frown at him slightly. Klein turns in his seat scanning the road behind us, Jackson begins to pull his weapon. "Sir, I believe you are right, that black Acura is following us, but change lanes a few times to make sure."  
  
Sands:  
  
"Never tell me what to do," I growl at him. "There's more than one of them. There's three, maybe four."  
  
Victoria: Klein lowers his eyes, "Sorry sir." I touch Sands' arm lightly. "Three or four cars?" My eyes plead with him to tell me I am mistaken.  
  
Sands: "Yeah. We didn't sense them because they aren't vampires." I cast her a glance. "They had the same idea we had: They're using thralls."  
  
Victoria: I smirk, humans are easier to deal with. "Can you loose them?"  
  
Sands:  
  
"Klein, are the ones you can see wearing night-vision goggles?" I reach under my coat and loosen my gun, releasing the safety.  
  
Victoria: I watch what he does and swallow hard. Klein nods to Jackson, who is already donning the high tech gear. He shakes his head no. "No, sir they appear to be night blind." He smiles briefly.  
  
I unbutton my coat and expose my own weapon. "Do you think I'm going to need this?" I ask Sands.  
  
Sands: "Yes." I can't imagine anyone with an ounce of intelligence sending thralls after us without the proper equipment. They were no match for us without it. I turn off the lights of the car and take the first exit. Hopefully, I can lose them on unlit country roads. I just can't use the brakes.  
  
Victoria: I watch him carefully over the next few moments. He's calculating. His eyes shift from the mirror to the road ahead at a furious pace. It's exciting to watch.  
  
"Jackson," I pause, "Are you ready?" He nods, his weapon held in his hand. "Don't let anything happen to me now," I warn with a smile.  
  
"Wouldn't dream of it Miss. Dupree," he responds.  
  
I pull my weapon and hold it in my hands, trying desperately to recall the lesson taught not so long ago. Safety off, focus, squeeze the trigger, I think to myself.  
  
Sands: "If we are forced to stop, you two are to protect Miss Dupree," I instruct our thralls. "I'll draw them away. It's me they're after."  
  
Victoria: I wrinkle my forehead at his order. Quite noble. "Will you be all right?"  
  
Without waiting for an answer I turn my head to Jackson. "How many do you see in each car?"  
  
He turns and scans. "I can only see in the car directly behind us. I see two ." He states flatly.  
  
I whip my head back in Sands direction. "Will you be all right?" He's the first vampire I've trusted in the last 150 years, the first person I've cared to spend any amount of time with since Claude died, I don't want our time cut short before it can really begin.  
  
Sands: I can't help but smile. "No matter what, you just get back to your place. I'll meet up with you. If I'm not there by noon, have the boys contact Abberline." I am focused on the road, but I can sense her staring at me. "I'll be fine. They're just humans. I've been trained by the C.I.A., remember? I can kill someone in a hundred and twenty-four different ways without a weapon." I am grinning at the absurdity of it all.  
  
Victoria: "Really?" I smile, "I'd like to see that." I try to remain calm but beneath it all I'm a wreck.  
  
Sands: "Three cars and four in the car behind us, Jackson." I am not surprised. They're all wearing dark clothes and something that looks like sky masks to cover their faces and necks. It strikes me that they're dressed like Navy Seals doing a behind-enemy-lines operation. Ahead, I can see the road comes to a T.  
  
"Right or left, Victoria? What feels lucky?"  
  
Victoria: "Left," I smile, my eyes flashing.  
  
Sands:  
  
She's enjoying this. Me, too. Except I'd rather be hunter than hunted. They're in high-power Chevys. I don't think the Mercedes can outrun them. I force the car into a lower drive to make the turn without using the breaks and we squeal, but stick to the road. I catch something out of the corner of my eye. One of their cars has broken off and is cutting across the open ground. They're going to cut us off.  
  
Victoria: His head turns quickly and my eyes snap in the direction. They're trying to pin us in! I release the safety on the gun. My breath quickens.  
  
Sands: I lower the window, then draw my gun. The road is rough. As their car gets closer, I turn and fire left-handed out the window, aiming for the windshield on the driver's side. They swerve, but continue toward us. I sense our thralls are ready for a fight.  
  
Victoria: I jump a little as he fires. It's different here, not like in the range. I push the button on the window and it slides down silently. I nod to Kline and Jackson who follow Sands' lead. Better not to have broken glass flying around the interior if they shoot. The wind whips his hair around, I'm glad mine is in a braid.  
  
Sands: A flurry of bullets rips into our car. I jerk the wheel right, then left. Jackson is the only one who can fire back right now. He's shooting out the open window.  
  
While we've begun to try and maneuver, those behind have closed the gap. "Behind us," I warn Klein. The car jerks madly and I realize they've shot out the front tire. Great. It acts like an anchor and the car begins to move more sporadically. I have little control.  
  
Victoria: We're whirling around, bullets whizzing by! "Hit them with the car if you have to," I call out. "We can always get another."  
  
Klein turns and aims at the car behind us firing right through their windshield. Glass shatters!  
  
Sands: I pull hard on the wheel, using the shot-out tire to aid in the spin. Suddenly we're facing right at the car that was behind us a moment ago. Klein and Jackson are both leaning out and firing now. I hear the car that was trying to cut us off hitting the road behind us going the wrong way. I pull the wheel just to the right. As the pursuers get even with us, passing on our left, I jerk it to the left into them, sending their tale- end off the pavement and sending them into a spin.  
  
Victoria: The thralls are knocked about by the impact, but they diligently keep firing. Even I grip the arm rest for support. "Good hit!" I yell. "Jackson, Klein, aim for the driver!" Why I yell it out, I don't know. They know their jobs better than I.  
  
Sands:  
  
The car I hit keeps spinning, the guy gunning it, and they slam around hitting us. The sound of crunching metal erupts through the car. "Shit!" I grumble as we slide right off the pavement and into the deep ditch. "Get out. Run." I have my gun in my hand. "Now!" I add.  
  
Victoria: I reach for the handle, but it's jammed! I struggle with it and realize the futility of my actions. I turn and crawl across the seat, following Sands as he exits. I keep my head low.  
  
Klein is out of the car firing over my head and Jackson circles around to our side of the vehicle and reloading his weapon. Shells are flying!  
  
Sands: "I'm going left, you go right," I order them. I'm watching for that third car. It's coming up behind the one we hit. "Do not follow me." With that, I dash across the road into the ditch on the far side. I'm hoping those fuckmooks will follow me and leave Victoria alone. I hear the gunfire increase and I realize most of it is coming from the three I just left. "Run!" I yell back at them.  
  
Victoria: I scan the area. There is a row of trees off to our left. It's dark there and perhaps we can loose them in that darkness. "I hope you can keep up!" I yell to the boys as I scramble to my feet at a dead run. I keep my head low and hear the bullets zip by. The humans should be no match for a vampire running at full capacity, but then again neither are Jackson and Klein!  
  
Sands: I hear the sound of automatic weapons fire. I scramble away, making sure they know where I am. As I dash at full speed past a small bush, it rustles from being hit. Okay, they're taking the bait.  
  
I continue to run over the rough ground. This is some sort of farmland. Of course, this time of year it's only rows of dirt, muddied from the rain. More shots ring out and something hits my leg. There's a little sting, but it doesn't hurt like it should. I reach down. Fuck! They're not using bullets. There's a sort of dart in my leg. Fuckinghell. I don't know what's in these things, but it can't be good.  
  
Part B Victoria: It's not long before I reach the tree line. I slow and wait for Jackson and Klein to catch up. There are a few more shots, but they are dying out. I hear the automatic gun fire in the distance. They are after Sands.  
  
I lunge forward, only to be stopped by Klein's grip on my arm. I look at him and yell, "Let me go!" I could pull away easily, he is after all only a human.  
  
"Sands said not to follow." He looks at me coldly.  
  
"Then one of you go check!"  
  
Sands: Something is spreading through me, slowing me, turning the night sky into amazing colors. I'm getting flashes of memory: A night in Paris totally drunk with Vivian. A carriage ride in New York City on my first trip to America.  
  
It's hard focusing. I know I should be running, but my legs don't want to move. I think I'm standing still, but maybe I'm still running.  
  
Victoria: The thralls shake their heads. They disgust me. I yank my arm away forcefully and take off in the direct that Sands ran. I stay close to the tree line, pleased to be clad in black. I follow along quickly past the crashed vehicles, hearing only shouting, no gun fire!  
  
Sands: I must be in the mud. I feel the wet. People are touching me. I want to shout at them, but I can't move. My mind is not my own. I can't focus.  
  
Glimpses of other bad times are crowding in: The time I learned that Josephina was taken to the guillotine. The day in Mexico when Dr. Guevara drilled out my eyes.  
  
I'm yelling, I can hear my own voice, but I'm not making real words.  
  
I'm not in the water anymore. They're lifting me, carrying me. I want to kill them all. More vivid visions. I can't tell what's real anymore.  
  
The river is rising. Get out! Sandra, get out! Am I yelling, or thinking? It's getting darker. Darker. I don't feel anything anymore.  
  
Victoria: I reach the scene just in time to see the humans lifting his body from the mud. Is he dead! I must know who they are! Klein and Jackson are coming, I hear their clumsy footsteps in the brush behind me. I reach out with my mind trying to get a reading off any kind from the figures before me.  
  
I shut my eyes and concentrate. Nothing! I'm about to open my eyes when I get a flash; an image. My eyes pop open forcefully, "Jacob!" I raise my gun and fire. The shot goes over their heads. "Shit !" I hear to my left. It's Klein. He hits the ground on one knee and begins to fire. "Don't hit Sands!" I shout.  
  
One of the men carrying Sands drops. I smile at the hit, but have no time for compliments as they return fire. Jackson pushes me to the ground forcefully, shielding my body as the bullets fly over head. "Get off! "I yell, "Return fire!"  
  
Jackson shakes his head and keeps me down, but does return fire with his other hand. The bullets tear through the trees and Klein manages to take down another of the men carrying Sands' body. But they outnumber us.  
  
A car speeds up and screeches to a halt. The door flies open and they stuff Sands apparently lifeless body into the vehicle. "NO!" I scream  
  
Klein: Miss Dupree is gutsy, I'll give her that, but she obviously has had little to no training. "Miss Dupree, can you get the license plate number?"  
  
Victoria: I lift my head out of the mud and squint my eyes. A smile spreads over my face. "DLX 462!" I call out. "Write that down!"  
  
Jackson is still holding me down, aiming his gun into the field.  
  
Klein: "I got it." I aim and carefully shoot at the second car. Rubber flies off the back tire.  
  
Victoria: The car swerves, but the driver manages to hold the car in check and speeds away kicking up mud and ridding the rim. I pound the ground with my fist in frustration.  
  
"Let me up!" I bark at Jackson.  
  
"Not until I know the area is clear," he responds sweetly. I turn my head and push him off, he goes flying back a few feet.  
  
Klein: I pull my cell phone from my jacket pocket. Everything happened so quickly, I didn't have time to call before. I press the phone book button for the Guardians. MacGregor's voice barks from the other side.  
  
"What is it?" he asks.  
  
"They've got Sands," I report. I see Victoria stalking toward me. "Victoria is safe."  
  
Victoria: "Who are you talking to?" I question.  
  
Klein: "The Guardians. MacGregor."  
  
Victoria: "Can they send someone out for us? The car is ruined and maybe someone to clean up our mess?" I point in the direction of the bodies. "We don't want anyone asking questions." I smile. "Oh and tell them it's Jacob, definitely Jacob behind this."  
  
Klein: I relay her report and request to MacGregor. He's already on it, talking to people even as he replies to me. I try to describe where we are. He asks if we have flashlights to signal them when they get off the highway.  
  
"Miss Dupree, do you have flashlights in the car?" I ask.  
  
Victoria: "Jackson," I call as Klein is on the cell, "Go see if anyone is alive over there, if they are I want to talk to them." He raises an eyebrow as if he is about to speak and then turns away, good choice.  
  
I brush myself off knocking dirt and clumps of mud from my legs and backside.  
  
"Miss Dupree, do you have flashlights in the car?" I look up . "Hum, oh yes. In the trunk. Can they round up Andre for me?"  
  
Klein: "She wants Andre in on this. No, I saw him there earlier." I start walking toward the front seats. I hope the key is still there. It's pitch black out here and I can barely see anything.  
  
Victoria: I follow Klein knowing his human eyes are weak and the darkness a hindrance for him. The door is flung open and the vehicle is riddled with bullet holes. "Why did you do that?" I mumble to myself.  
  
Klein: "Pardon me?" I can't quite here what she's saying. I climb in and reach for the ignition, hoping the keys are still there. Bingo. I get back out, holding them, confident she can see I have them.  
  
Victoria: I turn and scan the field looking for Jackson. "Samuel," I call out to him silent across the darkness. I see his head pop up, he's still wearing the night vision gear.  
  
"Yes, Miss Dupree?"  
  
"Are any alive?" I question as I fold my arms.  
  
"Yes, one," he replies.  
  
"Good bring him here." Jackson stands as he begins to drag the body of one of our assailants through the muck. Then I turn to see what Klein is up to. He seems more than capable. Perhaps I was wrong about him before.  
  
Klein: She doesn't answer me. She may have been talking to Jackson or something. I open the trunk and find a big flashlight and a smaller one. I take them both. There's bullet holes all over the trunk. We're lucky the tank didn't blow. As I digest this information, I hear her and Jackson talking. There's a survivor. That should please her.  
  
I leave the trunk open and head back to her.  
  
Victoria: Klein comes around to my side, he's found the flashlights. Jackson walks up and drops the body at my feet. I hear it groan.  
  
"Miss Dupree," he bows his head and kneels down pulling the ski mask from the victims head.  
  
Klein: I've never seen this guy before. He's got his head shaved like a Navy Seal. Their entire ops has been very militant. These guys have been trained.  
  
I shine the flashlight on his face and look to Victoria for direction. "Do you want me to stay with you, or head to the highway to wait for reinforcements?" I ask her.  
  
Victoria: "Jackson will go, you can stay." My fists are clenched in anger my eyes narrow.  
  
Klein: I pull a piece of white nylon from my pocket. "Right." I bend down and flip the guy over, securing his hands behind his back with the nylon cord. Next I begin to frisk him for weapons. He's got a few stashed away. Jackson is checking his mouth for capsules and false teeth. When he's done, he takes the larger flashlight and hikes off towards the highway.  
  
By the time I'm finished, we have a small arsenal sitting behind me, all compliments of our friend. He's beginning to regain consciousness. There's nothing on him or his clothes to tell us his name or where he comes from.  
  
Victoria: He's moaning and his eyes are fluttering. That's all right, but when I'm finished he's going to wish he had died out there in that field. I know a thing or two about pain and since Jacob's involved in this, I'm not going to hold back. "Bring him to, " I urge.  
  
Klein: I'm not sure what I can do to speed things up. I have no ammonia capsules. "Hey, buddy, wake up." I pick him up by his flack vest. "Someone wants to talk to you."  
  
Victoria: His eyes open and immediately he begins to struggle, I half smile at his efforts.  
  
Klein:  
  
Well, at least Victoria seems to be enjoying herself. I can't help but smile.  
  
Victoria: "Hello," I say coldly , smiling and exposing my fangs. I walk forward a little so he can get a better look at me.  
  
Victoria: "Step aside, Klein," I ask and wave at him with the back of my hand. Then I turn my attentions back to the black clad figure at my feet. "You and I are going to have a little chat."  
  
Klein: I move out of her way and pick up our remaining flashlight. I scan the area, making sure no one is sneaking back to look for survivors.  
  
Victoria: He spits at me! I smile and kick him in the face! His head goes snapping back , he winces in pain. "Now, now that's no way to treat a lady. " I purr. "And make no mistakes I am definitely a lady." I allow my southern accent to flow freely. I step closer and straddle his form. "You have information that I want, and seeing that you are a gentleman you are going to assist me."  
  
Klein: The guy grits his teeth, glares at her, and I take it this is his decision to make his death a little more painful.  
  
Victoria: I sigh and squat down over him brushing the side of his face. "I know you are working for Jacob McCloud." I smile prettily. "I just want to know where he is right now, and why you saw fit to take my friend from me."  
  
Klein: From what I understand, Victoria is new at this thrall business. I stand back and whisper so only she can here me: "If you make him your thrall, he'll have to tell you."  
  
Victoria: I turn my head, "Thank you for that information. I will if I have to, but I think I would like to do things this way first." I smile, still stroking the man's nearly bald head. "Now, is there anything you would like to say?" I question.  
  
Klein: The fellow's had training, it shows. He's no more likely to talk then I am. I wait. This is Victoria's game.  
  
Victoria: "Fine sugar, then we'll do things Jacob's way." I shrug my shoulders and grip the side of his head tightly. My fingers press into the side of his skull, drops of blood begin to appear. My mind drifts for a moment as I remember watching Jacob acting out this scene on one of his enemies. I watched in horror that time.  
  
Klein: I'm not sure what she's up to. I guess she wants to try torture first. The guy is squirming, but still not talking. He may pass out from what she's doing to him.  
  
"If he's a thrall to a Viscalli, he's probably afraid to talk," I speak very softly. "They're pretty brutal and control their thralls not only with blood, but fear."  
  
Victoria: I know what he's talking about. Jacob controlled me with fear. He filled my head with stories of danger and death by our kind and beat me severely when I began to question him.  
  
I close my eyes and try to look into this man's mind. Perhaps I can see where he's come from, or what their plans were. I really don't want another thrall.  
  
Klein: I'm getting nervous. It's way too quiet out here. The only sounds are this guys little moans, the occasional drops of rain hitting the ground, and my breathing. Spooky. I hope Jackson made it to the highway okay. Hell, he's probably still walking. I think Sands had the car up to 80 on these back roads.  
  
I keep looking around, hoping this guy will say something to make Victoria happy and give us a lead. I jump when my cell phone goes off.  
  
Victoria: I hear the phone ring, but I remain motionless trying hard to see where he been recently. Slowly images begin to appear. I can feel his blood dripping down the back of my hand.  
  
Klein: I answer. It's Quinn on the line. They've located the owner of the car. He asks if it's a Chevy. I answer in the affirmative, turning away from what Victoria is doing so I can pay attention to Quinn. He's giving me an address just north of Manhattan in the burbs. They're going to pick us up. He asks to talk to Victoria. I explain that she's busy. Turning back around, I watch her face. She's concentrating. Looks like she's almost in a trance or something.  
  
Victoria: I don't like what I see. Several men pouring over maps and photographs on the walls. Sands walking through the park, Sands sitting in a coffee shop, Sands in a boutique. They've been watching him for awhile. A figure approaches, no two figures. All the men snap to attention. 'Remember we want him alive.' I know that voice. The images fade. I throw his head to the ground and growl. Angry at the situation, angry that I could not get more, angry that I am so useless.  
  
Klein: Something's upset her. I stand, waiting for orders. Did she even hear me talking to Quinn? "Quinn and the Guardians are on their way," I tell her. "They have address to go with the license plate. It's not that far from here, actually."  
  
Victoria: I stand, my eyes glaring at the man on the ground. "Does Quinn want this one alive?" I ask without looking at Klein.  
  
Klein: "He didn't give any orders," I tell her. "He's your find." I look at the guy. If I had the right drugs, I could probably make him talk, but I don't think Victoria is that patient. I can't sense Sands anymore. I had a sense of him that faded when he ran off, then it was as if the signal was turned off completely. They must have used drugs on him.  
  
Victoria: "Call and ask him," I reply.  
  
Klein: I flip open the phone and hit the redial. Quinn answers almost at once. "Do you want our prisoner alive?" I ask.  
  
"His life is at Victoria's discretion," he tells me. "We may need him if this is a stolen car."  
  
"Thank you, sir." I close the phone and turn to Victoria, relaying what Quinn has just said, though I know she heard it over the phone.  
  
Victoria: I kneel down next to our man on the ground. He's bleeding pretty heavily from my puncture wounds. I drip a finger in one of the wounds and then raise it to my lips letting my tongue work its ways back and forth across my finger tip until it is clean. The mans eyes widen, and I can feel Klein watching me closely. "It is lucky for you that you are still needed, when you are not, we shall meet again." I smile, stand and turn away from him and begin to walk into the darkness.  
  
Klein: I don't understand this Victoria. She seems like she doesn't want the power over this guy that is hers for the taking. I wonder if the hypothermia is going to get to him, or if he'll pass out from bleeding first. I figure I better get him off the wet ground to be sure he doesn't die from this freakishly cold weather.  
  
"Up," I tell him, forcing him to sit up with a hand to his flack jacket. "Get on your feet, soldier."  
  
Victoria: "What are you doing?" I call over my shoulder.  
  
Klein: "Trying to keep him alive."  
  
Victoria: "Be careful," I warn and then continue to walk off into the darkness.  
  
Klein: "Yes, mam," I respond automatically. I have to half drag this big oaf into the open door of the back seat. I push him back so he's half-laying on the seat with his feet still outside. That should keep him a little warmer.  
  
Straightening, I keep watch out.  
  
Victoria: I walk to the tree line and lean against the wet bark. I sigh again. "Damn you, Sands! If you hadn't run in the opposite direction we'd be together, maybe they wouldn't have taken you." I felt like crying, but vampires really don't cry. I hated everything about this situation and wanted a comforting shoulder at that moment. I was afraid more than anything else. What was Jacob going to do to you? I half knew because he done the same things to me. I shut my eyes tightly. I could still see those chains. The heavy links, the stains on the wooden floor. I cringed.  
  
Klein: Boy it's cold out here. I can't see Victoria anymore. She's probably scooping the place out. I want a smoke, but I better not. Someone might see the light and snipe me.  
  
Victoria: I don't want to be around anyone at the moment. I open my eyes and turn. Klein is standing out there in the field near the car. He's nervous. I watch him shift weight from foot to foot. I hope Quinn arrives soon.  
  
Klein: I check my watch. It's been almost twenty minutes since Jackson took off. It's starting to rain again. I wonder if our prisoner is still alive. I take a step toward the car, then see something. There's headlights coming down the road fast. That's got to be them. I hope. I hope it's not the Viscalli clan coming back to finish what they started.  
  
Just to make sure, I head off to the tree line, my gun in my hand. "Victoria, someone is coming," I call out a warning.  
  
Victoria: I saw the lights before he did. My gun is already in my hand. "We wait here until we know who it is." I grab his arm and pull him behind a large, old tree.  
  
Klein: When she grabbed me, I almost had a heart attack. I hadn't seen her. We wait for a few seconds, then I hear her stand. "It's ours," she tells me. I hope she's not just feeling Jackson coming with them.  
  
"Can you see anyone you know?" I ask her.  
  
Victoria: I click the safety and put my gun back into its holster. "Yes!" I call out and begin running toward the wrecked car. The other vehicles pull up, the doors pop open and several guardians appear and begin to make a sweep of the area, Jackson is with them. It's then I see him. Andre steps out of the S.U.V. he locks his eyes in my direction.  
  
Andre: I walk towards Victoria. She looks a little shaken, but resolute. "What happened?" I look from her to their car. It's pretty obvious what happened, but I want to hear it from her. I sense Quinn beside me, waiting for her answer with me.  
  
Victoria: I run my fingers through my hair, pushing the loose ends behind my ear. 'We were driving into the city, when Sands noticed that we were being followed. He decide to go off road to make sure they were really trailing us. They were. They began firing and then rammed the car. We spun around and stopped here. He order the thralls to stay with me and decided to run off in that direction, hopping to draw their fire. " I point behind them to the tire tracks in the field. "They stopped shooting at us and followed him. I turned around and started after him, only to see him laying on the ground motionless. They loading him into a car and sped off." I lowered my eyes and folded my arms.  
  
Andre: "It must have been awful for you," I tell her. I know what it feels like to be helpless while someone you love is taken. We have a lead on the car."  
  
Quinn speaks up. "Come on. My men will get the prisoner. Did you enthrall him already?"  
  
Victoria: I shift my eyes to Quinn. "No."  
  
Andre: "They'll take care of it," I assure her. "Come with us. We have Jackson." I gesture towards the big Mercedes S.U.V.  
  
Victoria: I let him take me by the arm and lead me towards the large, black vehicle. "Andre, "I sighed. I looked up at him helplessly.  
  
Andre: I can sense her despair. "He's strong, Victoria. He's survived a lot worse than this. They didn't kill him outright, did they? You saw them take him?"  
  
Victoria: "Yes, I saw them take him, but he was not moving, not at all." I gripped his arm tightly. "Andre, Jacob is a horror and he is not working alone in this. Another is with him, someone much older, darker."  
  
Andre: I say nothing. The Viscalli clan are all dark, but very few of it's members survive long enough to get old. We get into the car. The prisoner is carried into the Hummer behind us. The doors shut and we head back toward the highway.  
  
"They will find out everything your prisoner knows," I assure her. "If he's been well trained, he may be an asset. If he doesn't fit the profile, he'll be dead once we're sure of his intelligence." 


	24. Victoria Night 3 part 10 The Search beg

Victoria and Andre - the Search - Night 3 part 10  
  
Victoria: I sigh and nod quietly and reach for his arm, "Andre, thank you for coming. You're the only one I am familiar with besides Sands, and I know you love him very much."  
  
Andre: "He seems to have that effect on people. I tried to explain it to him once. We were both drunk and he thought I was pulling his leg."  
  
Victoria: I smile at the image Andre has conjured in my mind. "Well, what do we do now?"  
  
Andre: "We trust in the blood. Lilith can find him anywhere. She will lead us to him. If he's not at the address we have, she will know."  
  
I look up and see we're already getting off the highway. "Looks like it won't be long."  
  
Victoria: I survey the area through the windows and then cast my glance to those in the vehicle with us. Quinn is in the passenger seat busy on his cell, the driver must be a guardian but I have not seen him before. He has a purposeful look across his face, but then again they all do. Behind me are the thralls Jackson and Klein, both are busy checking their weapons and strapping on extra gear. "Lilith? Is she here with us?" I ask. Jackson reaches behind his seat and pulls out what looks to be a vest of some kind. Then I turn to Andre for his reply, but before he can speak I interrupt. "Isn't that dangerous?" My brow furrows.  
  
Andre: "Isn't what dangerous?"  
  
Victoria: Now I am confused. I shift in my seat. "For Lilith." I look to see if he understands. He doesn't so I continue." Jacob hates her, if he were to get his hands on her," I shudder I know what he'll do.  
  
Andre: "Jacob is no match for Lilith." I'd like to cut his head off, the stupid prick. "As a matter of fact, I'd like to let the two of them duke it out. She'd kill him in an instant."  
  
Victoria: I smile, but it quickly fades. "Jacob's not stupid. It's likely that he's not alone."  
  
Andre: "We've thought of that." I look at her. "You've not done much warfare, have you, Victoria? Don't let this frighten you. You should stay back and let the professionals do their work. I used to be a swordsman, but I won't go rushing in their with possibly silver bullets flying. Once we're actually going through the house, doing close-in work, that's when I'll enter with my blade. You should keep behind me to cover me, or stay by the vehicles."  
  
Victoria: I nod, "I'll come with you I don't want to be left alone out here."  
  
Jackson leans forward. "Excuse me Miss Dupree, you'll need to wear this." He hands me the strange vest I saw him digging out from under his seat.  
  
"What is it? " I ask.  
  
"Kevlar. Mr. Sands said I couldn't let anything happen to you." He half smiles I look over at Andre and then at the object in my hands, "Kevlar?"  
  
Andre: "Regular bullets can cause pain, but not mortally wound us. If Jacob's friends have anything with silver, that can harm us, as you well know. The vest is a good idea. The Guardians wear them."  
  
Victoria: I mouth an acknowledgement of understanding. I look at the two Guardians in the front seat and see that they are both wearing the vests, so are Jackson and Klein. "Where is yours Andre?"  
  
Andre: I shrug. "I'm not a Guardian. Besides, like I said, I don't go running into a gun fight. My weapon is a sword."  
  
Victoria: "I see." I admire Andre for his bravery, for his commitment to his craft. What a strange world I have come to see. I remember when the sword was the most fearful weapon, now. . . "You said Lilith should be able to finds Sands, that we should trust the blood. That is because she made him correct?"  
  
Andre: Before I can speak, the car makes another turn. "We're here," Quinn announces. "Weapons' safeties off, ladies and gentlemen."  
  
I put my hand on Victoria's. "Yes, Lilith made him a vampire. Now stay behind with me and let our soldiers do the battling."  
  
Victoria: I am torn. I don't want to stay behind, but I know it is for the best. The car doors open and the guardians jump out and into actions. Jackson and Klein jump out to, but they seem to stand guard outside the vehicle. If I live through this, if we all live through this things will be different. I slip my arms into the vest and begin to lock it in place. "But Andre if that's true then shouldn't I be able to tell if Jacob is here?"  
  
Andre: The cars pull up to the end of the circular driveway. It's a huge sprawling mansion, two stories high. There is no fire. No cars visible. I get a creepy feeling just looking at this place. There's death here.  
  
At Victoria's question, I turn to look back at her. "You don't sense him? Then he's not here, or he's dead. But the sire's pull to the child is much stronger than the reverse."  
  
Victoria: "No I don't, but that would explain how he was able to find me all those times." I know he's not dead. After everything I think I would feel if he was dead.  
  
Andre: I watch in silence as the Guardians move toward the building. "This car is not armored. Perhaps we should go back and wait with Lilith." I don't know if Victoria is comfortable around Lilith or how may Guardians stayed in the Hummer with her.  
  
Victoria: "All right," I slide towards the door and open the handle stepping out into the darkness. The stillness is unnerving.  
  
Jackson runs around the back of the SUV, "What are you doing!" he looks upset. "Going to the other vehicle like Andre suggested." I respond. He takes me by the arm and rushes me to the Hummer.  
  
Andre: Her bodyguard seems a little nervous. Well, probably his first battle. I go over to the Hummer and lean against the outside. Snow is falling in little flurries.  
  
Lilith: My Sheldon's newest paramour enters the car. She's lovely, if a bit tall. She is able to meet my gaze. We share a common purpose tonight. If Jacob harms Sheldon, I will destroy him very slowly and painfully. The same thoughts are probably going through Victoria's mind. I close my thoughts to her. It was something of a surprise earlier this evening to hear her in my mind.  
  
"The thrall," I tell her, "was kidnapped along with his fellows from a Special Operations Army base in the South. I have switched his allegiance to me." With my eyes, I look behind her to the back seat where he sits in a daze. "He knows nothing else, other than that he was to capture Sheldon without killing him." I lean forward towards her. "I do not sense him or Jacob here. This may be a trap. It would be just like the Viscalli to booby-trap the house."  
  
Victoria: I smile a little at Jackson as he opens the door to the Hummer for me. He's nervous. I ask him what is wrong in his mind. He looks at me and answers silently, "I can't let anything happen to you. I haven't had such a charming mistress before and I do not intended to go back to being under Debbie's control." He smiles. "Besides Mr. Sands will kill me." He looks me straight in the eyes, I know it is true.  
  
I enter the vehicle and the door closes behind me, Andre waits outside. Lilith is here. She is very lovely, elegant in every mannerism. I can see why Sands loves her. Suddenly I become self-conscious, realizing that I am splattered with mud and that my hair has come loose from its platting. I look at her and smile weakly. I can't sense her thoughts she has closed her mind to me. I turn to look in the seat behind me. It is the man I wanted to kill so badly earlier. The blood has dried in streaks down the side of his face where I punctured his flesh. "Special operations, no wonder they were so difficult to deal with," I say quietly.  
  
Lilith: "Difficult in what way?"  
  
Victoria: I bat my lashes and tuck a loose piece of hair behind my ear. "Usually I am able to make humans open up to me. I tried to find out from him where they had taken Sands." I pause and look up into her eyes. So dark. Strange to be sitting here in the presence of one so powerful. I can feel her power, it fills the air around us, or perhaps that is just my imagination.  
  
Lilith: "You can simply make any human a thrall, well, almost any." I smile at the memory of one I could not control. "Why didn't you just enthrall him?"  
  
Victoria: I fumble with my fingers in my lap thinking about the past, about my time with Jacob and the destruction that wrought. Slowly I begin to answer her inquiries "I spent too many years under someone else's control. I promised myself that I would never control another in that way." I look out the dark windows of the Hummer towards the house. "Until tonight I had never enthralled another. He never taught me how to do that, nor have I turned another. He never taught me how to do that either, although I have a fairly good idea of how that is done. I just. . ." I let my words drop off. I am sure she understands.  
  
Lilith: Oh, Jacob, what did you do to this poor child? "What a child doesn't receive he can seldom later give," I quote.  
  
Victoria: "What?" I ask, as I return my gaze to her.  
  
Lilith: Since I'm using quotes, it's time to pull out Don Marquis: "If a child shows himself to be incorrigible, he should be decently and quietly beheaded at the age of twelve, lest he grow to maturity marry, and perpetuate his kind." I smile at her. "I should have killed Jacob years ago."  
  
Victoria: I smile. "There was a time he wanted to marry me. I refused him after he murdered my father. But that just seemed to fuel his anger. Oh my poor brothers, what ruin I brought to us all."  
  
Lilith: "Don't dwell in the past, my dear, or you will miss the present moment." I turn my attention to Quinn's man in the front seat, Townsend. They're in radio contact and I strain to hear something. Anything. Victoria: I follow her line of sight and listen quietly. It is easy for her to say that, I'm sure she has never known the torment I suffered.  
  
Lilith: They are in through a back door. There is a tension in the air. I close my eyes and focus inward. Where are you Sheldon? He must be unconscious, because I cannot feel him. Jacob. Where are you my rascal? Far away. Very far away. I open my eyes. What game is he playing?  
  
Victoria: I watch her face carefully. "What is it?" I ask eagerly. "Have you found him? Is Sands here?" I lean forward a little in my seat.  
  
Lilith: "I do not think he is here. I think this is some sort of trap. Or a game. Jacob is not usually so clever."  
  
Victoria: "No, but he does enjoy stringing people along. He has become quite good at that. He knows how much Sands means to you, and he does hate you so. I am sure wherever he is he is receiving great pleasure from this."  
  
Lilith: Jacob did hate me when I drove him away. She is right. So he would torment me for revenge. "Why now?" I ask her. "You've been around him more recently than I, so why now?"  
  
Victoria: I think about her question for a while before answering. "I'm not sure. He never had the courage to do all the things he had planned for you. That's why he took it out on me, and the others. He may hate you, but deep down he fears you. But when I searched for him in the field, when I reached in the thralls mind I sensed something very dark, very old. I am sure he is not alone in this."  
  
Lilith: "Yes, Quinn told me of his talk with Sheldon. Viscalli were involved in the attack on you and Sheldon earlier today, were they not? Somehow Jacob has managed to forge an alliance with those vermin."  
  
Victoria: "I doesn't surprise me. He has always moved easily among those of low moral character." I look back towards the house. I wonder if they have found anything yet. "Do you think it is safe to go inside yet? If Jacob was living here I am very curious, and would like to look around."  
  
Lilith: "I keep asking what Jacob has that the Viscalli want. Do you have any ideas?"  
  
Victoria: "Was he still active among the clan?" I ask, ideas beginning to form in my head.  
  
Lilith: "Jacob has never been in this clan, not in Abberline's. I am quite sure he hates Abberline almost as much as he hates Sheldon and me."  
  
Victoria: "Well then you have answered your own question," I settle back into the comfortable leather seats.  
  
Lilith: "I do not follow you. What is it that Jacob has the Viscalli clan wants?"  
  
Victoria: I fold my hands in my lap. "Well from what Sands has told me of our history the Viscalli are all monstrous. Their leader has purposely made them that way, believing us to all be an abomination. The Viscalli want you and Abberline out of the way. If Jacob could have a small part in your destruction that would make him extremely happy."  
  
Lilith: "Abducting Sheldon will not remove my dear Frederick, or myself from the picture," I point out. "Perhaps Jacob doesn't realize that Frederick never leaves his position of safety. He fights his battles with his power, not his physical strength, though that is considerable." I look at Victoria carefully. "What do you know of us?"  
  
Victoria: "To be honest, very little. I have feared the company of our kind for so long, not being sure whom I could trust." I look out the window at the house and a thought occurs to me. "No, but it would draw you out." I pause choosing my words carefully. "If you were in danger, would Abberline come for you?" I am treading on thin ice as the saying goes.  
  
Lilith: "Why would he need to come when we have the Guardians?" Still, her words give me pause and I look around, searching for danger. Andre and Victoria's thrall stand outside, silent sentinels. No one would get by them without paying dearly, and there are still Guardians here in the vehicle with me.  
  
Victoria: "But if it meant your life he would come. Perhaps that is what Jacob is hoping, that by taking Sands it would bring you out of the safety of the clan house and then perhaps he could then lure Abberline to your aid. I am sure the leaders of the Viscalli or the Von Storm would very much like to get their hands on you two."  
  
Lilith: "You've been talking to Sheldon too much." I laugh. "He's always full of intrigue and moves, countermoves. Do not play chess with him." My smile fades. "Jacob is not smart enough or clever enough to plan such a thing, therefore he must be in league with a Viscalli who is clever. Most of them are brutes. I will have to have Quinn look into this."  
  
I turn my attention to the driver. "Tell them we're leaving the area. We'll be back when they're ready to be retrieved." I open the door. "Andre, you and that fellow," I gesture to the thrall. "Get in. We're leaving."  
  
Andre looks a little surprised, but he obeys at once, climbing in to sit by Victoria. The thrall gets in the back with our prisoner.  
  
Victoria: "Why are we leaving?" I quickly ask.  
  
Lilith: "Because of your words."  
  
Victoria: "My words?" I am surprised at her response.  
  
Lilith: "If this is a trap meant for me, to draw out Frederick, then I will have no part in it. We would need several more Guardians for such a confrontation." I look to Andre. "What do you think of her theory?"  
  
He looks thoughtful, nodding slowly. "It's a possibility. I do not know this Jacob or what he's capable of."  
  
Victoria: "I don't want to leave." My words come quicker. " I must do something to help find Sands. I cannot go with you, it would feel like I was abandoning him to that monster!"  
  
Andre: I put my hand on her leg. "If he was here, she would know," I remind her. "Calm down. We were given a false lead."  
  
Victoria: "No! Lilith let me stay and help the Guardians, let me do something please." I lean forward pleading with her.  
  
Andre: The driver calls back to us. "They have found no one, so far, but evidence that there was a private plane hired to leave tonight. The flight plan is for Frankfurt, then Budapest."  
  
Victoria: "He had a home there!" I say excitedly "He took me there once. That was a long time ago," I pause trying to remember the year. "1795!" I call out looking from Andre to Lilith, do you think his home could still be there?" So much has gone on in that part of the world, perhaps it was all destroyed.  
  
Lilith: "It is possible. Could you find it again?"  
  
Victoria: "I think so," I settle back into the seat, arm interlacing Andre's. I hoped I could find it again, Sands live would depend on it.  
  
Andre: "I don't know, this all seems too convenient."  
  
Victoria: I squeeze his arm. "It's the only lead we have." I look at him with my large green eyes.  
  
Andre: "Lilith, what would you have us do?" I ask.  
  
Lilith: Our vehicle has come to rest on the side of the road. "Let us see what else they discover." I look out and see the light of a distant house. Snow is falling more earnestly now.  
  
Victoria: I did not even realize we had moved on, the house seemed so far away with its warm glow on this wintry night. I rubbed my forehead. It had been a difficult evening.  
  
Lilith: I hear the radio again. Quinn is reporting all clear. They will meet us at the end of the driveway. Our driver relays this message to everyone. I say, "Go ahead then," to him.  
  
I look back at Victoria. "I trust you like to fly?"  
  
Victoria: I smile broadly. "Oh yes, I move around often." I was pleased that we were making progress and once more I was going to be of help. The last thing I wanted to do was to sit back helplessly waiting for my knight to return. 


	25. Victoria Night 3 to Day 4 Rescue Party

Victoria - Night 3 part 10 to Day 4 part 1  
  
Victoria: Sitting in the Hummer, being driven away from Jacob's house was painful. I felt as if we were all abandoning Sands to an unimaginable fate. I listened half-heartedly to the communication of the Guardians, angry with myself. After all it was my words that had fueled her decision to flee the scene. Quickly we were shuttled back to the clan house. Things moved so quickly, much of that was a blur. I am amazed at how well organized the entire operation was. Quinn spoke to me privately and I tried to direct his forces to Pilis where Connor's home was located, but it was difficult. How things have changed.  
  
I stayed below with the Guardians, the last thing I wanted was to be assaulted by the masses upstairs. That's when we received the news that the plane was charted and ready to go. I barely had enough time to clean myself up. But Andre was such a godsend. He arranged for a fresh set of clothes and had a bag packed for the trip. It would be easy to love him.  
  
I haven't said much for the last few hours. I just sit here in the oversized leather seat of the plane and stare out the window. It's still dark, but soon the sun will begin to rise. I know I can find Connor's house, I just hope that I can muster the courage to confront him when the time comes.  
  
Lilith is here. She sits at the other end of the cabin, Andre is with her. The two of them chat quietly. She has shut her mind to me, which I find a little disconcerting.  
  
My thoughts are interrupted by Jackson, my thrall. "Here." He hands me a tall crystal flute glass filled with champagne. I looked at him strangely, but accept the drink. How did he know I was thinking about champagne?  
  
I take a slow sip and shut my eyes. "Thank you Samuel," I reply.  
  
"Your welcome Miss. Dupree. If you need anything let me know."  
  
I sip again and shut my eyes, listening to the hum of the engines. We're coming Sands, we're coming.  
  
Lilith: I feel comfortable with Andre, comfortable enough to tell him what's in my heart this morning. "He was conscious for a while. I could feel him. He was very very angry." I look into Andre's deep brown eyes. "But they must have drugged him again. I could feel his thoughts slip into fantasy, then nothing." I shrug. "At least they're not hurting him."  
  
My gaze is drawn to Victoria. She sits alone, her face showing her emotions for anyone to read. Someone will have to teach her about hiding her feelings. "Andre, dear," I direct his attention with a glance, "she needs someone to cheer her up."  
  
He follows my line of sight, nods and smiles back at me. "I will speak to her. She doesn't realize how clever Sands is."  
  
"Clever is not always enough," I remind him.  
  
He stands and walks over to her.  
  
Victoria: I hear foot steps approach but choose not to open my eyes.  
  
Andre: "Victoria? Do you mind if I join you?"  
  
Victoria: I open my eyes and find Andre standing before me, graceful and charming. I manage a smile and wave a hand to the empty seat before me. "Champagne?" I ask raising my glass towards him. He looks exceptionally handsome in that Armani suit.  
  
Andre: I sit down and motion for her thrall to bring me some champagne. "Tell me, Victoria, what are you thinking?"  
  
Victoria: "Of Pilis," I reply quietly and then raise my glass to my awaiting lips.  
  
Andre: "Who is Pilis?"  
  
Victoria: I smile a little more broadly. Jackson approaches and brings Andre his drink. "Thank you Jackson." He smiles and turns to go. I wait until he is out of sight. "Not who my dear, where is a better question."  
  
Andre: "Pilis is a place? I'm not familiar with it." I wait for her to explain further.  
  
Victoria: "Pilis is a small provincial town in Hungry." My eyes switch from him to the window where the sky is just beginning to blossom with the lavender hues of early morning. "Connor had a home there. He brought me to live there once, in the early 1800's. It's a beautiful place really." I turn to look back at Andre, he is watching me carefully. "That was before things were bad, before he changed."  
  
Andre: "So there were good times with him? You and I haven't really had much of a chance to learn about one another." I sit back and cross my legs, studying her profile. She turns and our gazes meet. "I had the impression that he victimized you."  
  
Victoria: I take another sip of champagne, and breathe deeply. "Before I was turned there was many good times. He wanted to marry me," a smirk appears as I recall the thought. "Father and my brothers, Charles and Phillipe wouldn't hear of it! That is when things took a turn for the worst." I uncross my legs and bring them up under me, repositioning myself and giving me an opportunity to decide what to speak of. "He killed them all you know. Father, Charles, Phillipe. He allowed my Claude to live as long as I did as he wished. I couldn't bear the thought of loosing him too. But in truth I did."  
  
Andre: "Why didn't you change Claude?"  
  
Victoria: I opened my mouth to speak but no sound came. What could I say. I was without any courage, that I feared Connor and foolishly believed all his lies to me. That he would not let me see him except at a distance. All the reasons sound so cheap, so foolish. I could feel the tears welling up behind my long lashes.  
  
Andre: I must have hurt her. I reach forward to touch her hand. "I did not mean to make you cry. Please excuse my question."  
  
Victoria: What a lovely man. I cover his hand with my own and shake my head dismissively. "No, no . It's just when you realize how terrible foolish you've been." I quickly shut my eyes to hold back the tears. "My brother, was the only one who truly loved me and I failed him. I gave up."  
  
Andre: "Perhaps he would not have wanted this existence we have. Many are driven mad by it." I am trying to distract her, so I do not refer directly to Sands, but he was mad more than once. "Some can fight their way back from the madness." I wet my lips. "You adapted easily?"  
  
Victoria: I look up at Andre the soft tone of his voice is soothing. "I might not be after all of this." I squeeze his hand. "I was determined to have a life, even if that meant running from town to town, country to country, You might say I never had the luxury of a nervous breakdown." Then a half smile.  
  
Andre: I shift in my seat again, my eyes narrowing. "I'm afraid then that I misunderstood. You escaped him immediately after being turned?"  
  
Victoria: "No, I'm afraid I'm not telling this tale very well." I release his hand and wipe at my eyes. "I was with Connor until 1825. One hundred years of torment. It was then I realized that he would kill me. Perhaps by accident, perhaps not. Claude was gone, I had nothing, no one to loose so I decide to fight back. That it was my one chance to be free, or die. Even that would have been a type of freedom. " I look into his eyes. He's studying me.  
  
Andre: I nod in understanding. "So, I will ask my original question: Did you adapt easily to being turned or was it traumatic for you?"  
  
Victoria: "I don't know how to answer that question." I paused and looked into his dark eyes. "How was it for you?"  
  
Andre: "Well, pretty smooth, I guess you could say." I smile remembering. "I was in love with the person who transformed me. He was kind, patient, all the things you expect from a lover. He made sure I understood in advance what might happen."  
  
I think back to that night. "I had stayed awake since before dawn that day. He told me to watch the sunrise and sunset, to take a good look at all the things I would miss in daylight until I was old enough to endure it." I sigh. "When I was turned, it was very beautiful, really. And the things we can see with our eyes are so much more enhanced than what a mere mortal can see. I was mesmerized."  
  
Victoria: I bit my lower lip. "How wonderful that sounds." I said wistfully. "I suppose most have beautiful stories to tell."  
  
Andre: "No, not most." I wonder how much she knows. "There are many evil vampires, like your Jacob. They turn those they might be infatuated with, but when the tire of them, they murder them." I shake my head. "Of course, Abberline does not allow such behavior in his clan, but he has only been with us for about a hundred years." My gaze meets hers, and I see the sunrise reflected in her green eyes. "He changed the landscape, brought organization and order out of chaos. He created the laws we now live by. Before they were more like.suggestions. The only law before Abberline was that any vampire who killed his or her creator was to be killed. No other rules. Nada."  
  
Victoria: "That was the one rule Jacob did teach me. He made that one painfully clear. That is why I have spent the last 170 years in hiding from our kind. I knew that I didn't kill him. I tried to, but I wasn't strong enough. I knew they would all be after me." I took some reassurance in his words.  
  
Andre: "We are difficult to kill." I can't help but smile. "So you escaped from him, but you know him. You know where he's lived. This Pilis, his home there, is it easily defendable?"  
  
Victoria: I smile at the change of subject, I did not enjoy when the darkness, the regret came to me. "It was in 1825. It was at one time the manor house of a baron. Large grey stone walls, three feet thick in places." I set the empty glass down. When had I finished it? "How much longer before we arrive?"  
  
Andre: "We land in Frankfurt, refuel, then it should take another ninety minutes before we reach Hungary proper." I look at my watch. "I imagine we'll land in about two hours, since we're still over the Atlantic."  
  
Victoria: I wrinkled my brow and quietly looked out the small window.  
  
Andre: "Don't watch the clock, it just makes the flight last longer," I advise.  
  
Victoria: I turn to look at him once more, the elegant figure of a man before me. How beautiful he was. His warm skin, and dark eyes. His words thick and smooth like fine chocolate. I admired him. "I've never been one who cared about clocks, or the passage of time, but I just can't help but worry. Each passing second fills me with dread."  
  
Andre: "Victoria, there is something that might alleviate your concerns some. Sands was uninjured when he woke. They put him back to sleep, but Lilith is certain they did not harm him." I touch her hand. "They want him unharmed, it would seem."  
  
Victoria: My eyes opened wide. I drew in a deep breath and smiled, relived by his words. "She had contact with him then?" I leaned forward towards him. I was pleased to hear this confession. But apprehensive too. Was I correct in my earlier assumptions. Was this all a ploy to draw Lilith out into the open? 


	26. Sands the captive Night 3 part 11

Sands Night 3 part 11  
  
Consciousness returned gradually. Sands, by instinct, played possum. Confusion reigned supreme. He had no memory of what was going on, where he was, why he was there, so he let his thoughts roam freely, relying on instincts to fill in the gaps.  
  
Okay, so he as angry. Nothing new. He was in danger. Right.  
  
All these half-thoughts flashed through his mind in half a second. Hearing began to return. There was a huge throbbing hum. He tried to pin it down. He knew that sound. Engines. Airplane engines. So he was flying somewhere. Funny, he didn't remember planning a trip.  
  
Trip. He had fallen. In a field. Cold, wet mud. Enemies.  
  
Keep calm, he told himself. They didn't kill you outright.  
  
That almost wasn't helpful.  
  
Memories kicked in more clearly. Viscalli clan's attack. Jacob. Victoria. Victoria! Risking it, he took a very quiet inhalation. He couldn't catch Victoria' scent, but he could smell several unfamiliar vampires. Not good. Okay, don't freak out. Fuck! I am freaking out.  
  
Voices intruded upon his rising anxiety.  
  
"He could be awake," a gruff voice spoke from off to Sands' left.  
  
"If he uses drugs maybe," a higher, softer male voice snickered. "I hear this guy is bad, man."  
  
The sounds of footsteps were muffled by the over-riding engines and a thick carpet. He could hear them breathing beside him. Play dead, Sands instructed himself, despite the rising anxiety.  
  
"He's still tied tight," the softer voice said with a tone of satisfaction.  
  
"Damned all Abberlines," the gruff voice commented. This one was right above him.  
  
"I've never had anything to do with 'em. This is the first time I've been close enough to see one clearly. You ever talk to one, Jonah?"  
  
"Naw," Jonah replied. "They'd as soon stake you as talk to you. Remember that, Keno. They hate us all, we're not good enough to be vampires in their books. We're not pretty enough, not smart enough. They are the scum, fucking fancy buttfucking boys, all of 'em. Probably wearing women's underwear." He laughed gruffly.  
  
"Viscalli says they're the aberrations," Keno reminded his buddy. "This one is pretty, isn't he? It's not natural."  
  
It was all Sands could do to keep from growling in anger. He felt someone touching his head. He wanted to jerk away. Don't freak out, he mentally repeated. Stay in control. I am Sheldon Jeffrey Sands. I'm the one in command of the situation.  
  
"Our orders are to not harm him," Jonas said in a softer tone, almost a whisper.  
  
Well, that's a fucking relief. Or is it?  
  
"I'd like to cut him a little," Keno said. "He's at least three-hundred, right? I'd like a taste of that."  
  
I bet you would, asshole. You Viscalli kill each other off quicker than we can get to you. And your damned master won't allow any of you to age. You're all a bunch of fucking infants. Stupid, ugly, fucking infants.  
  
Jonas laughed. "I bet you would like a taste, but the Master says no."  
  
"Maybe if I took a little nip from somewhere that wouldn't show," Keno suggested with a snicker.  
  
Like fucking hell! That did it. Sands opened his eyes and found himself looking up into the eyes of a scrawny, vampire with long dirty hair. Sands tried to move his hands, and discovered that he was strapped down to a flat surface. He flexed his muscles; the bonds did not give.  
  
"Looky here." Keno's voice was filled with venomous glee. "He's awake."  
  
Play it groggy, Sands. Make them think you're helpless. Fuck, I am helpless. Almost.  
  
Another face swam into view above Sands, whose vision was still a little blurry from the drugs they'd used to knock him out.  
  
"You won't get out of these, buddy." Jonas rattled the chest strap tying Sands down. The Viscalli brute's broad chest was covered with a faded t- shirt. His bushy beard and punk jewelry reminded Sands of a Hell's Angels poster boy.  
  
The captive vampire blinked slowly. Unwanted images flooded into his mind. Memories. Mexico. Dr. Guevara coming at him with a drill. Hatred flared and something snapped inside Sands, something red and hot, flowing through him like lava. Demons awoke.  
  
His dark gaze bored into Keno, locking hold of the younger vampire, pinning him like a bug on a board.  
  
"Don't look at him like that!" Jonas slapped Sands hard enough to send his head rolling to the side. Quicker than lightning, Sands turned and bit into the hand, drawing blood, clamping down like a pit bull.  
  
"Fuck! Get him off me." Jonas used his free hand to grab Sands' lower jaw. Keno shook himself free of the effect of Sands' hypnotic gaze, and grabbed their prisoner's long dark hair, yanking his head back. Jonas managed to free his hand, loosing a hunk of skin in the process. Sands spit it out at him, the other vampire's blood staining his lips.  
  
"You fucker!" Jonas kicked the stretcher to which Sands was strapped.  
  
"Don't touch me!" Sand said slowly, his voice a sandy growl. His gaze focused on the weaker of the two, Keno. If he was lucky, this guy could be of use. He'd already demonstrated a will that was easily taken over by a stronger mind.  
  
"What is going on back here?" another voice joined the party, this one accented, European, Hungarian or Romanian, Sands wasn't sure which. It didn't matter. He kept his eyes staring straight at Keno, his will seeping into that laser-sharp focus. Keno's face had gone slack. He appeared to be paying no attention to Jonah or the newcomer. You are mine, Sands willed.  
  
"Get this idiot out of here," the new arrival said, grabbing hold of Keno and shoving him towards the front of the plane. "Can't you two idiots follow orders?"  
  
"He bit me," Jonah said sullenly. "We was just looking at him and he bit me."  
  
"Out, both of you. Send Barlow back with his kit." The European turned to meet Sands' intent stare. "There's some of us who can follow instructions." He pointedly turned his face away and stood holding onto one of the seatbacks, his back to Sands. "You will not snare me, Abberline shit."  
  
"So one of you has some fuckin' brains," Sands said, studying the man's profile. He had dark straight hair, a hooked nose, and narrow long face. This one dressed in an expensive suit. "What the fuck to you expect to accomplish? Trying to start a war?"  
  
The man refused to respond to him. Sands watched him wet his lips.  
  
Well, if he wouldn't look, Sands could always use his voice to hypnotize the fellow. He focused on the right tones, the rhythmic cadence, and began to speak. "You don't have to put yourself in danger. There is safety for anyone who wants it. We're not your enemies. We just want to live in peace." He saw the man's eyes open and close slowly. "You know you want to be my friend."  
  
"What's all this then?" a Brit asked, coming into view. He snapped his fingers under the other man's nose. "Hey, Chenris." He flashed a quick look at Sands, who lay quietly, the blood of Jonah still on his lips. "Causing trouble, are we?"  
  
"We are tied down. How can we cause trouble?" Sands retorted.  
  
The Brit walked around behind the head of whatever Sands was strapped to and tossed a black cloth over his face.  
  
"What the fuck!" Sands jerked his head from side to side to rid himself of the material, but the Brit adjusted it, catching it under his chin, and wrapping it more firmly around his head.  
  
"That's your muzzle," he told Sands. "And if you continue to talk, which I seriously doubt you will after I medicate you, I'll gag you, too."  
  
Expletives poured out of Sands as anger reasserted itself.  
  
"Chenris, I told you, he has more than one way to hypnotize," the Brit said in a conversational tone.  
  
"He didn't hypnotize me," Chenris protested.  
  
"He did, mate. But don't worry, he won't do it again any time soon."  
  
"You just wait," Sands calmed enough to converse rationally. "My clan will destroy you. All of you. You'll regret the day you laid hands on me."  
  
"Oh, I think not," the Brit said. "Hands here, Chenris."  
  
Feet shuffled behind him, then Sands felt a weight on his forehead. As he opened his mouth to protest, something sharp jabbed him in the neck. The words he was about to speak drifted away from him and he fell into utter darkness. 


	27. The Turning of Victoria Victoria Awaken

Victoria Awakes - The Story of Her Turning When I awoke a fear raced through me. My head ached, filled with an intense pounding. At first, I was afraid to open my eyes; horrible images running thought my mind. Were they but nightmares?  
  
When I mustered the courage to open my eyes, the room was dark, nothing seeming familiar at all. The thick, velvet window curtains were tightly drawn. I could not tell if it was day or night, but I could see clearly about me. How was that possible! There was no light in this room, not from candle nor fire. A faint reddish glow was emanating from my body alighting all around me.  
  
I was in a large mahogany four poster bed, wearing nothing but my shift. I tried to sit up but could not find the strength to do so. Then I remembered Connor rushing down upon us. Ripping out the throat of that nice French boy, and all that blood! A panic filled me. My head was filled with thoughts of escape.  
  
From out of nowhere Connor appeared and was suddenly upon me! His speed was otherworldly. His hand clutched firmly around my throat. I tried to fight him off but I had no strength. I could barley lift my arms. "Good, yer awake." His rich Scottish accent filled my ears. I closed my eyes tightly trying to shut him out. "It's no good lass, you'll not be going anywhere." His words dropped off.  
  
Connor McCloud leaned down until his lips brushed my cheek. "Yer dying. In fact, you'll be dead very soon unless you do exactly what I tell ya." He was so close, pressing the length of his body against mine. He playfully wrapped a curl of my hair about his finger tip."You belong to me now." Then he kissed my lips. A long, deep possessing kiss. "Ya need to feed. In fact ya need to feed quite often. I'll bring it to ya, this time. You'll drink, until I tell ya to stop. And as long as ya do as I command I'll allow ya to live. Do I make myself clear?" I nodded my head slowly. "Good." His hand released its grip from around my small neck.  
  
He stood and made his way across the room. I could hear his boots as they clicked across the floor. He returned quickly, dragging a small boy by the scruff of the neck. As he approached a strength grew within me. I was hungry, but this was unlike any hunger I had ever known! I was up on my hands and knees like a large cat ready to tear that boy apart. I could smell his blood; his fear. I could hear his heart beating wildly within his chest. What was happening to me! Connor began to laugh. Deep rolls of laughter. He shook the boy in front of me. I was revolted by my actions!   
  
"Drink, here." he commanded as he twisted the boys head painfully to the side exposing his small white neck. I lunged forward sinking my teeth into his flesh and drank deeply. His blood was hot, almost sweet. It rushed through my body filling me with satisfaction.  
  
"Enough!" Connor yelled and he pulled the body away from me, but I wanted more.  
  
As the blood filled me, my strength was renewed. I could feel it surge through my body. My vision became clear and I could hear sounds, like the small mouse gnawing at the corner of a book across the room. Connor departed dragging the lifeless body behind him. I could hear his satisfied laughter throughout the halls. I sat back on my heals trying to assimilate all that was taking place. I had just killed that boy!  
  
Once more I drank his blood, and I liked it! I pushed my hair from my face and ran the tip of my tongue across my teeth. Until I pricked myself upon the sharp point of my newly developed fangs. What had Connor done to me, what had I become!  
  
He returned quickly and seated himself upon the edge of the large bed. A smug expression on this face. I scrambled away from him, after all I'd seen what he could do on many an occasion. I pressed my back into the headboard and watched him carefully. He was pleased with himself. I had seen this look in his eyes before.  
  
"Victoria," he called. Fearfully I looked at him. "Do ya know what you are?" he asked. Slowly I shook my head no. "Yer a vampire now. I made ya, you belong to me and only me."  
  
Vampire! My head was spinning! I had heard of such creatures, but never believed them to be true. I got up the nerve to speak. "Where is my brother, where is Claude?"  
  
He laughed at me and his laughter shook the bed. "Yer brother is not here and once more he'll never find you." Connor McCloud inched closer. "Besides what could he do to help ya now." He was even closer now and reached out to touch my cheek. "Do what I say. Do everything I ask and unlike yer other brothers I'll let him live."  
  
I shut my eyes. He had me. Passage of Time  
  
The next few years were in describable. At first it was exciting, this new life I had awakened to . But Connor kept me in darkness. I lived only to serve him. I was a decoration for his arm when he decided to appear among mortals. Sometimes he used me as bait to lure unsuspecting victims to their deaths. At times I hunted for him and when we would retire to the confines of our home to escape the light of the day I became his sexual plaything.  
  
He took me off to Scotland for a while where he continued to brood. As his moods grew darker so did my life with him. There were times when he would lock me away, refusing to let me feed until I lay almost half mad with hunger. For many years I thought that I had brought all this misery upon myself. That my fathers refusal to allow us to marry had brought all this to bear. But that was not so.  
  
I remember it was February, a very cold, bleak time of year in the highlands. Connor had become ragingly drunk. He grabbed me by the hair and took me to bed. When he was finished with me he yelled that it was no good. Not the same. That it would never be the same. I had no idea what he meant. Foolishly I asked.  
  
"I was cast out!" he cried. "She used me and then found another! I hate him for it and I will have my revenge!"  
  
"Who cast you out?" I should have stayed quiet. His eyes flashed as he turned on me.  
  
"My maker!" he screamed, grabbing my hair. That was the first time he almost killed me. It was weeks before my broken body mended itself.  
  
From then on I never asked another question about his maker. But whenever he became drunk he would rant and rave about that 'damn Englishman' that took her away and a hatred would fill his eyes.  
  
Vampires are very strong creatures, meant for survival, but even we have our limits. After one of his more intense beatings, I lay on the floor bleeding to death. Bones shattered, I wished to die. It was at that moment that I decided no more. An Idea Forms  
  
Several months went by. My body healed itself. Deep scars faded away, teeth grew back, and soon I was once again able to speak. All during that time I was thinking, calculating, moving funds from place to place, charming people who would become my allies if needed. But most importantly I smiled and shot demure glances whenever his gaze alighted upon me. I waited on him and his needs and when the end came, Connor was caught completely unaware. It was when Connor brought me to Vienna that the idea for my escape began to form. Connor had leased a manor house on the outskirts of that great city in Eisenstadt. It was there on summer evening I met the gypsies.  
  
They were a beautiful people, dark and romantic. They lived their lives filled with color, abandon and so, as poor as they were, they were kings at heart. Many called them beggars and thieves, and so the moved from town to town, province to province. I longed for their freedom and loved them instantly. I would steal away whenever I could and watch them, peering through the trees for hours I sat, as still as stone and observed. When the sun would go down the men would gather around the great bonfire and quietly begin to play their instruments. The plaintive guitar, the lonely violins. Soon they would be joined by the women and the children who would dance wildly, spinning and leaping around the flames.  
  
Watching them night after night I became more entranced. Slowly I learned their language and knew each of their faces intimately. Then one night I stepped from the trees and entranced them.  
  
I danced through their camp, around the fire, lifting my skirts and exposing my fine ankles. My hair fell from its pins and tumbled about my shoulders. I sang their songs and drew them to me with my voice. I had been a vampire for nearly 100 years and could have easily slaughtered them all, but I wished to control them and so I wooded them with my voice. Humans were easily charmed by me. I had been lovely to look at in live and it death I had become a vision.   
  
They knew of Connor and hated him terribly, almost as much as I. But they were terribly frightened of him. I frowned, knowing what Connor had done to their people. He made sport of them, raping their women, sucking their bodies dry, leaving their carcasses for the wild animals. They would taking coaxing. I smiled to myself as I sipped their wine. I knew what had to be done. I spent more and more time with them, letting them learn to love me, until I knew that they had excepted me completely. That is when I made my move.  
  
I quarreled with Connor, that very night I made my way to the Gypsy camp. Slowly through the trees I walked , a heavy velvet cloak pulled closely around my shoulders. When I entered my camp the ruse had begun.  
  
Instantly they knew something was afoot. I was not the same, I had not removed my cloak, I moved slowly, I sat quietly by the fire. One of the men approached and offered me wine which I refused. This drew more stares, more whispers. They asked me to removed my coverings and make myself comfortable. I smiled under the garment knowing what lay in store. Slowly I raised my hands and removed the hood. A gasp of horror erupted through the camp. Many ran to see Connor's handy work. My face was swollen and blackish - blue. One eyes closed shut. My lips were split and crusted with blood, and there were dark imprints of his brutish hands around my throat.  
  
The sight of me in that condition was all it took. They agreed to help me escape if I could immobilize him. I ensured them I would leave him for dead and they began to break camp. We would cross the boarder into Hungary, head for the town of Veszprem in two days time. I nodded in agreement.   
  
All was arranged. In two days time they would be on the road east of the manor house, packed and ready to travel. If I could make my way to them, they would disguise me as one of their own and spirit me to safety.  
  
My wounds healed quickly as they always did and Connor was still unaware. I put on the gown that he favored the most, the one that brought out the color of my eyes. I fashioned my hair in the manor that most pleased him. There was only one belonging I wished to take with me. My mother's locket. It was a small golden oval, elegantly engraved with her initials. Inside were small paintings of all her children. Charles, Phillipe, Jon, Claude and myself. I slipped this locket onto a velvet ribbon and tied it around my slender throat. I stood, smoothed my skirts and made my way into Connor's chambers.  
  
He was sitting near the fire, at his writing desk, drinking and reading a stack of letters. "Connor," I said quietly. He didn't stir. I moved a little closer, "Connor my dear, my I intrude?" I pleasantly questioned.  
  
His eyes quickly glanced in my direction over the tops of his letters. A smile slowly spread across his lips. He was pleased with my appearance. He sat back in the large chair and set the letters aside. I twirled for him, batting my eyes and smiling brightly.  
  
"What do ya want lass?" he purred. I stepped a little closer.  
  
"I've come to make amends," I purred back. Connor motioned me closer. I could feel the blood rushing through my body. The fear rising. I had to keep it together! I had to remain in control or all would be lost!  
  
"Sit here," He pushed the chair away from the desk and patted his thigh. I smiled and swept around the table. "Ya look lovely tonight."  
  
I seated myself on his lap and his strong arms wrapped around my waist. His dark hair had come loose from the leather tie. I pulled it all loose and ran my fingers through it. He groaned in pleasure and pulled me closer, pressing his lips against mine. I pushed him away playfully.  
  
"Can I get you a drink," I glanced towards the decanter and empty goblet on the desk," You seemed to be empty and I picked up some very good wine today." I smiled seductively.  
  
His eyes sparked and he released his grip on me. I stood and crossed the room to the sideboard. I opened the cupboard doors and pulled out a dusty bottle. "Almost as old as you," I teased as I blew dust from the glass. He laughed. I pulled the cork and poured the dark red liquid into two crystal glasses which I had placed on a sliver tray. When my back was turned to him, I produced a small vile from the folds of my skirts and poured the liquid into his glass. I was a very strong poison. Powerfully enough to kill several large men. I hoped that it would be enough to disable him, god it had to be enough.  
  
I turned and carefully carried the tray back to his writing desk. I placed it on the table and lifted his glass offering it to him.  
  
"I love to watch ya, such fine manners." he complimented.  
  
I smiled and lifted my own glass. He raised his glass to me and then to his lips. I watched carefully, he had to drink it all! I raised my glass and drank slowly. "Do you like it? " I questioned "There's plenty more."  
  
Connor smiled and tossed back the glass, swallowing it all.  
  
I smiled. "Another?" I chirped. I could already see the poison taking effect. I crossed the room and retrieved the bottle. I hurried back to his side and filled his glass, setting the bottle on the desk.  
  
"Strange wine lass," his words a little slurred.  
  
"The shop keeper swore that there was none like it," I finished my glass."It is good, isn't it?" Connor had already finished his second glass. As a Scot he enjoy his alcohol. I filled it again. His hand becoming unsteady. Suddenly his other hand shot out and grabbed my wrist! His eyes glassy but wild.  
  
"Witch!" He tried to stand, "What have ya done!" Connor pulled me forward across the desk, scattering items everywhere.  
  
"Connor!? Nothing, I've done nothing except try to apologize!" I protested loudly.  
  
"Nay! I feel it! Running through my blood!" He began to stumble, crashing to the floor, pulling me down with him. Braking crystal, spilling wine, papers falling like a light snow.  
  
"Connor!" I screamed as we tumbled to the floor. He may be drugged but his grip was tightening, he was struggling to lift his head. "Let go!" I kicked him in the ribs and pulled back with all my strength.  
  
Connor released his hold and went flying across the room, striking the floor with a thud! I raised my head, seeing Connor crawling towards me.  
  
"What have ya done," He howled! I scrambled back. I reached for the wine bottle, the heavy blown glass shattering as it hit his head. He dropped to the floor still conscious, but struggling! I knew the poison wouldn't kill him. I knew that if I did not finish what I had started he would end my existence! I searched the room for a weapon.  
  
There it was laying under the writing desk, scattered among Connor's other belongings. A letter opener! It's gleaming blade called to me! I crawled wildly across the floor to reach it. Connor grabbed my leg pulling me back towards him, all the time cursing my name! I kicked at his hands with my free foot and stretched as far as I could with my arms until I finally held the weapon. I turned suddenly and drove the letter opener into his wrist! His face contorted with pain, he let out a horrible scream. I smiled, remembering all the times I screamed for him.  
  
"I'll kill ya!" he howled. I pulled the blade from his arm and when for his neck. The poison had finally taken effect. He hardly moved. I got up behind him and held his head by his hair, a position he often had had me in.  
  
"No Connor, I'll shall not die today!" I yelled as I ran the letter opener's sharp edge across his throat! Blood gushed out! His eyes rolled into his head! It spread quickly across the floor. I scrambled to my feet and tossed the weapon down by his side. I stood there for a moment, in disbelief and then I quickly turned and ran! I headed towards the kitchen doors and out down the path as fast as my legs would carry me.  
  
To my joy the gypsies were there, true to their word. Motioning for me to hurry. Two men climbed down and helped me into the wagon. They quickly closed the canvas and we were away.  
  
It was then that the fear hit me. What had I done? It was the one law. You can not kill your maker. Every vampire would hunt me down for this abomination! I had not freed myself! I had condemned myself. I lowered my head and cried.  
  
The women pulled at my shoulders, urging me to shed my clothes. They had gypsy garments for me to wear. One woman tugged at my hair. I was to be one of them. 


	28. Sands Day 4 part 1

Sands Day 4 part 1  
  
As consciousness slipped back like light fingers playing in his brain, Sands decided that pretending to be dead was a good idea. At least until he knew what was going on.  
  
He was definitely in another place. This was no airplane. He could smell the scents of dozens of vampires. There was also leather. Paint. Cleaning products. And.soap and shampoo? Not what he expected.  
  
Without moving his body, it was difficult to tell what shape he was in. It seemed pretty obvious by the coolness of the air touching his skin that he was damp and naked. Interesting. Even his hair was wet. That explained the shampoo scent. Why on earth would they wash him down and clean his hair? So he had a little mud on him, that wasn't the sort of thing to bother the undead. Things were getting curiouser and curiouser.  
  
Maybe, Sands thought, the drugs they'd given him were producing tactile hallucinations. Was such a thing possible?  
  
Not too far off, he could sense the presence of a very powerful vampire, one much older than himself. It couldn't be Jacob. Who then? Too many questions, not enough answers.  
  
"Fuck it," he breathed out loud, opening his eyes and trying to move his extremities. He didn't get far. His hands were manacled to the sides of the gurney he lay upon, as were his ankles. So they didn't trust him loose. Smart. He rattled his manacles. They were secured too well for him to simply slip out of them. Not good.  
  
He heard a noise. Footsteps drawing close over thick carpet. Looking down, he saw he was in a richly decorated room, complete with plush carpet, leather couches, and modern art, which looked like an original. Too weird. He rattled his restraints again.  
  
The door opened and there stood Jacob. He hadn't changed much in the past nearly 350 years, except for the clothes. His hair was still long and shaggy blondish. His eyes were a little bloodshot. His cloths were sloppy.  
  
"You never did have much fashion sense," Sands heard himself say, slipping back into his role as tormentor. The hatred had been there all along, now it rose to the surface. Not unexpected, considering the fuel it had been fed in the past few days.  
  
"I can say the same for you, naked boy," Jacob moved closer. "You're still disgusting." He went over to the open door opposite the one he had entered buy, reached inside, and came back with a towel, which he tossed over Sands' hips and thighs. "That's better."  
  
"Prude or simply jealous?" Sands asked, digging his claws into Jacob's sensitive areas a little more deeply.  
  
"Yeah, jealous of you, who are about to die." Jacob sat casually on the couch, but Sands could read tenseness behind every over-played gesture.  
  
"Now, Jacob, I know you were never much in the brains department," Sands spoke slowly, as if explaining things to a child, "but have you not stopped to wonder: Why is Viscalli helping you? What's in it for him?"  
  
Jacob frowned. "I'm his ally."  
  
"Oh, yeah, like he'd go looking after Litlith's get for an ally." Sands rolled his eyes. "Think, idiot. He doesn't want you for an ally. He doesn't want me. He doesn't even want Lilith."  
  
Apparently, Jacob was not swallowing or following what Sands said. "He's brought you here for me to kill," Jacob said plainly. "And I'm going to make it last a long long time."  
  
"You never were bright," Sands scoffed. "He's trying to lure Lilith here. I'm simply bait. You are worthless to him. Once he has her here, we're both write-offs. He wants her to get Abberline. No other vampire, except Abberline's sire, has more power. Don't you get it?" Sands exhaled dramatically. "Even drugged, I figured that out."  
  
Jacob stood, his eyes narrow, his lips tight. "You egotistical aristocrat. That's why I joined the peasants in the French Revolution, to fight bastards like you."  
  
"Yeah yeah yeah. Sing me your sad song." Sands shook his head. "The sorry thing is, no matter how much you learn, it won't change the fact that you're fucking stupid, Jacob. Dumb as a cow. No, wait, that's an insult to cows everywhere."  
  
For a moment, Jacob stood frowning, blinking, then he met Sands' gaze. "You want me to kill you quick so you won't linger. Is that why you're insulting me?"  
  
"No, I'm insulting you because you're an idiot." Sands looked away. "You bore me."  
  
Suddenly, both vampires turned their attention to the door through which Jacob had originally entered the room. The presence of the vampire with great power grew perceptibly. He was drawing close.  
  
As Sands watched, the shadows beyond melted into the form of a tall man with ash-blond hair and pale blue eyes. He moved gracefully, like some of the older ones could move, appearing almost as if he moved in slow motion, yet he walked at a normal speed.  
  
Sands knew who this vampire was, the one who had actually been responsible for his capture. He'd never met Viscalli, but he'd heard descriptions. The older vampire was said to have been created around 350 A.D. His background was clouded in myth and supposition, but he looked Nordic, with high cheekbones and his fair coloring.  
  
Viscalli came to stand beside the Sands' gurney. His blue gaze focused upon Sands. The younger vampire turned his eyes away, less he be overpowered.  
  
Fear streaked through Sands. Viscalli was very compelling. He would be able to manipulate those of weak will.  
  
Sands refused to be manipulated. He was the one who maneuvered and schemed.  
  
Suddenly, Sands' training at the C.I.A. flooded back. At the first sign that he might be losing control of his thoughts, due to pain or drugs, he had been programmed to repeat specific phrases. The order didn't matter. The phrases would restore control to Sands. "I am Sheldon Jeffrey Sands," he began, "I throw shapes. I set them up and watch them fall."  
  
"What?" Viscalli asked.  
  
Sands smiled broadly. "You heard me."  
  
"Perhaps my English is not too good," Viscalli said, his voice heavily accented.  
  
"Jacob is an idiot," Sands continued, still smiling. "You could do better. Abberline is no friend of mine, you know. I'm quite the rogue. Black sheep, really. Understand? Comprendo? Comprendez vous?"  
  
"Don't listen to him," Jacob began. "I told you."  
  
A raised hand by Viscalli cut him off. "McLoud, you may leave us for a while. I wish to question," he looked down at Sands, "Sheldon Jeffery Sands."  
  
Jacob's hands fisted, but he nodded and left the word without an argument.  
  
"So speak," Viscalli instructed Sands once Jacob had left.  
  
"Why you would want to work with the likes of him, is beyond me." Sands watched Viscalli. The older vampire was studying him, his gaze lingering upon his eyes, his lips, his chest. Sands wondered what it would take to get out of this mess. He didn't dare risk drawing Lilith into this obvious trap.  
  
"It's plain you want Abberline," Sands continued. "I can tell you how to get into his clan house. I know all the entrances. The codes."  
  
"And in return?" Viscalli asked.  
  
"You allow Lilith, my friend Andre and I to live." Sands didn't dare mention Victoria. Hopefully Viscalli had no idea she even existed.  
  
Viscalli reached out to touch Sands' cheek with his cool finger. It was all Sands could do not to jerk away. He reminded himself about catching flies with honey, and he simply smiled, hoping this vampire couldn't read minds the way Victoria could.  
  
"Jacob was hoping to torture you," Viscalli told him, a smile playing across his lips.  
  
"He likes to pull the wings off of flies, too. Simple mind. Not much to him. I have an idea: Why don't we torture him instead?"  
  
"What will I gain by that?" Viscalli asked.  
  
"You'll please the heck out of me." Sands grinned genuinely this time.  
  
Viscalli looked thoughtful. He walked around the gurney, tugging the towel off as he passed it. He paused, looking thoughtfully at Sands. "I shall consider your offer." He moved back around to stand by Sands' head. "I shall return with my answer within the hour."  
  
Sands raised his brows and smiled. He watched Viscalli turn and leave and wondered what he would do if the older, certainly lethal vampire decided he wanted to do more than talk? Sands had flirted, though it terrified him. Death terrified him more. Somehow, he'd taken power away from Jacob. The fact that Viscalli would even consider his proposition made Sands darkly happy. Yes, Sands would enjoy torturing Jacob and maybe he could buy himself enough time to escape from wherever they were. One could only hope. He had to protect Lilith and Abberline. If Viscalli bought his lies, perhaps he could persuade him that he knew the location of Abberline's sire. Would he believe such a far-fetched lie?  
  
Sands smiled to himself. Keep it simple. Yes. He could make Viscalli believe just about anything. "I throw shapes," he mouthed to himself. 


	29. Victoria Day 4 part 2 rescue party

Victoria Day 4 part 2  
  
Andre: "That is all Lilith told us, that he woke, then went out again."  
  
Victoria: I felt the corner of my mouth turn down. Well at least it was something. I turned my eyes to better view Lilith sitting across the plane and couldn't help but wonder if she were keeping secrets.  
  
Andre: "You had a bad experience with your sire. For most of us, it is one of the closest relationships we have. Our dames or sires are with us much longer than our mortal parents."  
  
Victoria: I turned my gaze back to Andre and half smiled, he was trying to be of some comfort. "Yes, and when this business is complete I shall be alone once again."  
  
Andre: I tilt my head and look at her. "Why would you say such a thing? You've found your clan now."  
  
Victoria: I batted my eyelashes and thought carefully about his question. Finally unsatisfied with my own answer I shook my head. "It is difficult to feel like one belongs. I have spent centuries in an exile of sorts, companionship with our kind is still a bit unsettling. Especially considering the last three days."  
  
Andre: "Especially considering the last three days? In the last three days, were you not welcomed? Did you not even get to meet Abberline? There are those of the clan who are there for years before they get that privilege. And did Sands not make you feel welcome? And me?" I frown. "It is your thoughts that are stuck in the past. Only you can change that."  
  
Victoria: I have hurt him. Our hands were still touching so I gently squeezed. "Andre, please forgive me, " I paused and looked into his eyes. "You are correct in all things, it's just that I feel responsible for the situation."  
  
Andre: I smile. "It is not your fault. How could it be? Your thralls reported what happened. Sands, as usual, took the reins in his hands and gave the orders. The three of you did the best you could after he took off. What more could a person do? It would not have helped if you, too, were captured. Or worse."  
  
Victoria: I smiled and then turned briefly to look out the small window. "Once again Andre you are correct. I can see why Sands keeps company with you."  
  
Andre: "We have been friends for a long time. From the first moment we met, when we should have been enemies." I sigh, remembering the sight of him in the brothel. "He was drunk, half-dressed, and grinning like a madman."  
  
Victoria: I had to laugh, the image conjured in my mind too delicious to suppress. It felt good to laugh. "Yes he has a way with first impressions." I smiled like a Cheshire cat.  
  
Andre: "He somehow talked me into fighting against the French when Spain was her ally."  
  
Victoria: "Sands can talk anyone into anything," I said with a smile. I turned and looked back out the window and then quickly glanced at my watch." Pardon me Andre, but do you think we will be landing soon?"  
  
Andre: "We should be landing in Frankford for refueling at about 10am German time, then we'll take off for Hungary. We cannot disembark at Frankford." I swivel in my seat and look at Lilith. She sits with her eyes closed, obviously trying to find the thread that links her to Sands.  
  
Victoria: "Why not?" I ask as I follow his gaze to Lilith.  
  
Andre: "We would have to go through customs. We are too heavily armed for that." I smile. "It would take too long."  
  
Victoria: Although I had feasted quite a lot in the last three days, more than usually. I felt hungry, peckish really. Nerves always did that to me.  
  
Listening to Andre, I responded quietly. "Oh, " I leaned back into my seat. "How will we manage in Hungary then?"  
  
Andre: "It's amazing what can be done when there are vampires in high places," I say mysteriously. "Try to get a little rest. It will be a long day." I lean back, letting my head rest against the high-backed seat.  
  
Victoria: "Vampires in high places?' I questions a I shut my eyes following Andre's lead. I was thinking about his words when I felt Jackson approaching. I opened an eye. "What is it?" I questioned softly. He said nothing but produced a small pillow and blanket. "Thank you," I responded and shut my eyes once again.  
  
I had initially been dead set about taking a thrall, the idea of close proximity to a human distasteful, but a girl could get used to treatment like this. I let my mind go blank and slipped away into a sort of dream.  
  
(Victoria's Dream goes here)  
  
Andre: We're all ready. Our SUVs are making their way guided by Lilith and Victoria's memories. Quinn and the Guardians are packing heavy ammunition, all silver-packed. Lilith is leading us in, then she is to back off. Hopefully Victoria will stay with her.  
  
Thinking of our newest member, I look over at her, a flask of a cherry cordial in my right hand compliments of Asherton. Victoria is looking out the window. I turn in my seat next to hers.  
  
"It won't be long now."  
  
Victoria: The road twists and turns and is very narrow. Two lanes only, but we are making good time. The trees are becoming thicker here. I run a hand across the back of my neck and bump the edge of the kelvar jacket. I'm glad to have it on, this is going to get ugly.  
  
Andre speaks to break the silence. I pull my eyes from the window and towards his voice. It is so clam, soothing. I smile. "Yes, I feel something." I fold my hands in my lap. "Jacob, I think. It was subtle at first, but it is getting stronger as we go."  
  
Andre: My brow raises. "You feel Jacob? We must be very close then." I lean forward to the front seat. "Quinn, she can feel Jacob," I say in a whisper. "Perhaps the non-combatants."  
  
Quinn is nodding. "Lilith says Sands is awake again, but he's trying to block her out."  
  
This is not good. I look from Lilith's profile to Quinn. The vehicles slow and we pull over. The plan is for Lilith and Victoria to stay with three Guardians in this car, while Quinn and I go with the others.  
  
"There is something not right," Lilith says softly. I look from her to Victoria.  
  
Victoria: "I don't like this either." I look over to Lilith and she looks briefly at me. "Andre, I think it would be better if we all stayed together."  
  
Andre: I nod. "We all believe this is a trap to get Lilith. Maybe this is just what he wants." I look back to Lilith and her gaze meets mine.  
  
"Not me, probably Frederick." Her voice is soft shadows and velvet. "Our best weapon is the daylight." She shifts so she can turn and look back at Victoria. "Viscalli doesn't like the threat of having mature vampires anywhere near him. He doesn't even share his powers by creating vampires. When he wants a person turned, he selects another young vampire to do it. They are all susceptible to sunlight."  
  
Victoria: I nod. "So what does he consider mature then?"  
  
Andre: I wait for Lilith to speak. She knows more about Viscalli than I.  
  
"About two to three hundred years," she tells us.  
  
Victoria: "So then Viscalli's boys, really shouldn't be a problem for any of us then, we just have to worry about ambush, or being greatly out numbered then."  
  
Andre: I sigh. "Why is he doing this? He must have some secret weapon, or he wouldn't risk it."  
  
Victoria: "Jacob?" I turn my attention back to Andre. "He doesn't think. He truly believes that he is superior and none of his plans can go wrong." I smirk.  
  
Andre: "No. Viscalli."  
  
Lilith turns back around. "He was never very smart. His power is due to his age and ferocity. If his life depended on sheer brilliance, he'd be dead already."  
  
Victoria: I smile. I like that way she speaks, bluntly and to the point. "Oh, then with a pair like that," I roll my eyes and exhale.  
  
Andre: Lilith puts her head down then says: "He has your talent, too, Victoria. It gives him an advantage against most of our kind."  
  
Victoria: Her comment startles me, my mouth hangs open. "My talent.." My eyes shift to Andre and then towards Quinn. Nervously I look back to Lilith. "Well maybe I can connect with him then and get an idea of what is going on."  
  
Andre: I don't know what they're talking about. Lilith smiles. "Try it," she tells Victoria. "He's cut me out."  
  
"What?" I start to ask, but a sharp glance from Lilith silences me and I retreat back to quiet. I look at Victoria. What does she and Lilith have that the rest of us don't?  
  
Victoria: I lean back against the leather seat and shut my eyes. I shut out the sounds around me and concentrate on the silence. Opening my mind, I hear many thoughts rushing in , like water at the shore! I hear the thoughts of many of the Guardians and the thralls.  
  
I close my eyes even tighter, until their voices fade away and their is silence once more. My mind calls out, wrapping itself around the trees, winding its way through the air around us. Then I see a light. Extremely bright, and yet very cold. "I see him," I whisper.  
  
Viscalli. I feel myself shutter. His mind is twisted, hard to follow. But I go further. I see back through the centuries, back to the times when the Romans invaded the Britton. He is there. A slight pain begins at the base of my skull. I pull away from it. Too far, gone too far. Where is he now? What is his plan? "Power. He craves power." I absently mutter.  
  
Andre: "Sands?" I didn't mean for it to slip out.  
  
Victoria: I turn my head in the direction of his voice and shake my head "No." The figure in the distance turns towards me. My face reflects the horror I see. He knows I'm here, although he hasn't found me yet, he is searching. His power is great. It shakes me to the core. I search deeper, for Sands I tell myself, although it is more like the moth drawn to the flame at this point. "He wants to destroy, he wants to get. . . " My speech is halted. I sharply inhale. He has turned his icy blue eyes on me.  
  
Andre: I reach to touch Victoria, but hold back. I look forward and see Lilith has turned once again, her eyes upon Victoria. I look to her for direction. She shakes her head and I wait.  
  
Victoria: His eyes are beautiful, but frightening! I try to turn away, but he reaches out and holds me in his stare! The pain at the base of my skull increases, I have gone to far! "He wants to kill," it is harder for me to speak. I feel as is I am suffocating! "He wants to stand alone." My hand goes to my eyes. The pain. For Sands. He is coming closer. "He wants to be the only . . ." I am terrified, more than I ever was with Jacob, his darkness is surrounding me like the shadows in the night.  
  
Andre: "Andre," Lilith says, gesturing for me to do something. I touch Victoria, and I can feel her trembling. She has grown pale. "Victoria!"  
  
Victoria: I try to pull back, I try to shut him out.  
  
Andre: I don't know what's happening, but I can guess. Lilith reaches over the front seat and touches Victoria, who takes a deep breath, then relaxes. Slowly, her eyes flutter open revealing the green depths. "Victoria?" I venture.  
  
Victoria: I take a few quick shallow breaths. The pain in my head is great, I went too far. I sit very still for a few moments, shutting my mind tightly. I don't want to lead him to us prematurely. "One."  
  
Andre: "One?" Lilith and I ask in unison.  
  
Victoria: I turn to look at Lilith. My breathing still labored. "He wants to be the only one."  
  
Andre: The idea is disgusting. "He's mad," I mumble.  
  
"Never was totally sane, from what I hear," Lilith tells us. "Maybe Sands has a chance after all."  
  
I wonder what Lilith means and I look to Victoria, a question in my eyes.  
  
Victoria: "I saw his anger, his hatred." I pause and think about what I had just witnessed. Sands is just bait, I know that now. It is just a way to bring Abberline to him and it makes me angry. "It was Jacob's idea, but Sands is clever", I smile faintly looking up at Lilith. "Sands is just a lure. Jacob knew you'd come."  
  
Andre: I sit up straighter. "It is Jacob you've been talking about? I thought it was Viscalli."  
  
Victoria: "It is Viscalli," I smirk. "Jacob is his pawn." The pain is beginning to subside. 


	30. Sands Day 4 part 3 where things are reve

Wide awake, his ears attuned to the noises in the building, Sands began to get a picture in his mind's eye of just where he was. A very large structure. Old. Two to three hundred years old by the smell of it. And he was in the basement, it would seem by the stone scent wafting faintly from beneath the layers of paint. The deduction didn't get him far in his escape plan. He didn't even know what country he was in. The fact that Viscalli was here tended to make him think he was in Europe somewhere, because Viscalli had never been seen outside of his home continent. Still, the information was useless unless he could escape the infernal bonds that held him pinned to the unyielding surface. Anger flushed through him at the thought of his confinement, and he jerked hard against the bonds. Uselessly hard. And again. Damn it! Abberline had warned him.  
  
His thoughts flew back to, what was it? Just last night? After he had stirred Victoria toward Andre, Sands had taken off to find Quinn and let him know about the attack earlier.  
  
* *  
  
Sands moved through the richly decorated foyer to a hallway. A security camera followed his progress. The marble floors in this area of the mansion were no longer black and white, but natural off-white. A strip of a very thick oriental rug ran the length of the hallway. He stopped at the doorway to the stairway midway down on the hall's left side. Having very little trust in his fellow vampires, Sands held several theories about them, one of which was that some of them were out for his blood, literally. He therefore never took the elevators in Abberline house. They were too confining, too much like coffins for his taste, and too easily to be trapped in.   
  
His feet padded lightly down the two flights of steps to where the Guardians had their ever-active lair in the second level of the basement. There were at least three floors below the Guardians' level, but Sands never went there, except to pass them by as he came or went via the labyrinth. He usually entered the clan house through the subterranean routes, never the same way two times in a row. His C.I.A. training had only reinforced his tendencies to be careful  
  
Glancing up, Sands caught the electronic eye of a surveillance camera watching his every move and he cast a wide smile at it, acknowledging his audience. There was a soft click as he reached the door and he opened it. The Guardians' domain was not well lit. They kept it dimly illuminated as another form of protection. If needs be, Sands knew, they could flip a switch and flood the entire floor with blinding white light, which could theoretically momentarily blind any who dared intrude. He knew exactly where he wanted to go and wound his way around a corner and into the open office of Sebastian Quinn. The other vampire, besides being a comrade in arms, had been Sands' friend since the English Civil War. They were both Royalists then, both found themselves hiding out when Cromwell's forces tried hunting down any of the crown's supporters, and both ended up briefly in France along with the younger Charles while he lived in exile.  
  
Before him sat Quinn at a broad desk, everything neatly organized, a computer monitor on his left, a phone with multiple buttons to his right. Two inches taller than Sands, Quinn had similar coloring, except for intensely dramatic blue eyes rimmed in thick black lashes. Now his dark head turned from the monitor towards Sands, a smile on his handsome, eternally thirty-something face. 


	31. Sands Day 4 part 4 secret meetings

"Sands," Quinn inclined his head, both hands on the desk as Sands sauntered in. Quinn had never lost his British accent and he had no intention of adopting an American one. "What brings you in via the front door? I must admit, that was surprising." He studied his old friend, noting the still- damp hair and very obvious lack of guns.  
  
Sands' face jerked in what might have been a half-hearted smile. He put one thigh on the desk, half-sitting, and picked up the letter opener. "What have you heard about the Viscalli hunting us?"  
  
His question brought Quinn's brows up. "What?" It was the last thing he'd expected to hear from his roguish friend, Sands.  
  
"Viscalli? Hunting? Us?" Sands repeated slowly. "They were shadowing me today earlier while the sun was still trying to shine, so they're not juniors. Then at least five of them were organized enough to chase my lady- friend and I into the subway. We lost them." He gently placed the letter opener back on the desk's wooden surface and crossed his hands on his knee.  
  
"Bloody hell!" Quinn stood and went to the door off to his right. This was not good news. He felt a little collaboration was in order. "MacGreggor, come in." He left the door between his office and Jock MacGreggor's open and went to stand in front of Sands. He had a difficult time believing the Viscalli clan would try anything so obviously suicidal. "Did you do anything to provoke this?"  
  
Sands put a hand to his chest and raised his brows innocently as if to say, "What, me?" He looked rather angelic when he pulled that face, Quinn thought, fallen angelic.  
  
"What?" a voice asked from the door. MacGreggor, with long curling red hair tied back in a pony tail and broad strong shoulders, sauntered in. He was dressed in what was almost a uniform for him, black silk shirt, black jeans, black boots, black belt and a semi-automatic in a shoulder holster.  
  
"Sands was chased by Viscalli clan members today." Quinn told the Scot. "Have you heard of anything like that happening anywhere else?"  
  
MacGreggor, Quinn thought with satisfaction, looked appropriately surprised. "No. Not since the wars of old, but I wasn't around then." He flashed a white-toothed grin. "You serious, Sands?"  
  
"I have a witness." Sands pouted. "I've never come to you with fiction, guys."  
  
"Yeah, but this would.could mean another war," MacGreggor said slowly.  
  
"Yeah, well, they started it. I didn't even kill the guy we." Sands trailed off as the other two vampires turned to look at him with questioning glances. "He was waiting for us on the subway platform. I didn't have any weapons to take him out. It was pretty crowded with humans. So we incapacitated him and left him." Sands crossed his arms. "They started it," he reiterated sounding defensive.  
  
"Maybe it's just you they want," Quinn theorized. "You do tend to attract attention to yourself, my friend."  
  
"Is that my fault?" Sands' handsome face pulled into a frown. "It's not like I go looking for shitheads to shoot me, or chase me, or try to." He trailed off. "Quinn, you can wipe that look off your smartass face. I have had nothing to do with the Viscalli clan. Fuck it, who would? They're ugly, they smell, and they don't understand the words finesse or subtlety."  
  
"You got that right," MacGreggor agreed. "I think we should plan a defensive and sit tight. Perhaps monitor Sands here." He jerked a thump in Sands' direction.  
  
"I do not want to have a tail," Sands informed them. "But I'm sort of wondering if a pack of them is trying to figure out how to break into my place right now, damned fucking mooks."  
  
Quinn walked about around to his desk chair and sat slowly. "Okay, before now, say in the past decade, you've had nothing to do with Viscalli? None have crossed your path?"  
  
Sighing deeply, Sands shook his head. "Well, of course, I've seen one here or there, but I haven't slept with any of them, damn it. And I haven't killed any of them. Well, maybe one."  
  
Quinn and MacGreggor perked up. "One?" they asked in unison.  
  
Sands thought back. "When I was in the Agency, I was in Russia. I killed a really rough-looking vampire, but he never identified himself as Viscalli. He was working for the Russian mafia, well, actually, running a branch."  
  
"That may be it," MacGreggor commented.  
  
"It was eight years ago. I've heard of revenge being served cold, but that's ancient history," Sands argued. "And I don't think they knew it was me. I know how to cover my tracks."  
  
"Did you drink from him?" Quinn asked. He knew his old friend. Sands' tended to taste all his victims.  
  
Rolling his eyes, Sands nodded. "I didn't leave any witnesses alive."  
  
"They probably knew you were in town. There's not many of clan Abberline in Russia."  
  
Standing, Sands began to pace. "Well, so now what the fuck are you Guardians going to do about it?"  
  
MacGreggor and Quinn both burst out in laughter.  
  
"Sands, you are more dangerous than a half-dozen of our men," MacGreggor shook his head. "I'll tell you what, we'll arm you. How's that?"  
  
"I'm with a lady. She doesn't really know how to fight," Sands told them.  
  
"Then leave her here." Quinn gestured to the office.  
  
"Never." Sands began to pace.  
  
"Then you teach her to use a weapon," Quinn said softly. "She should know."  
  
Sands nodded. "Get back to me. Tonight."  
  
"We will," Quinn assured him.  
  
Sands' dark brown eyes met Quinn's bright blue ones. The Guardian gave him a slight nod, which Sands took to meant "chill out." Sands nodded back and left the office.  
  
Walking slowly toward the door which would lead him to the staircase, Sands paused. He could sense a power here, subtle yet years more mature than his own. It sent a tingle from the base of his spine up to his neck. His old phobia about other vampires began to rise. Calmly, he continued toward the stairway door, opened it and stepped inside.  
  
As the door swung shut behind him, Sands spun, sensing someone there. 


	32. Sands Day 4 part 5 more revealed

"Good evening, Sands." The voice was soft, lilting, and kissed with a Bristol accent. Abberline stood there quietly. He had apparently been waiting for Sands. He wore a loose-fitting white silk shirt and black trousers. There was nothing remarkable about him except for his sheer presence.  
  
"Sir," Sands inclined his head. He had nothing but respect for this vampire, to whom he had pledged his allegiance years ago after Lilith joined forces with him. Abberline had been turned by the oldest vampire on Earth. Though he'd been a vampire for only a hundred years, he had the blood of a five-thousand year old vampire, that of his sire, running through is veins, and along with it, a great power.  
  
Abberline's sire had not just turned him, but had kept close by him for over a decade reinforcing him with the ancient blood. Pao Ling had chosen Abberline as his heir, not so much of material wealth, though he had given a fortune to him, but to his powers.  
  
Moving quietly with his eyes on Sands, Abberline moved closer to the younger vampire. "You know I have premonitions. Visions."  
  
Sands nodded. Lilith had told him.  
  
"I've had one concerning you." Abberline looked away. "You will be used as a pawn."  
  
That irked. Sands' own eyes narrowed. "Why?"  
  
"I don't know yet. But I know there will be danger. Pain. I also know." His dark gaze locked with Sands', "that we will work together in this. In order for you to survive, you need to be stronger. Quickly."  
  
Sands wet his lips. What Abberline was suggesting could only mean one thing, and as far as he knew, Lilith was the only one Abberline had shared blood with.  
  
"What will I gain?" he asked Abberline, cutting to the chase.  
  
"Strength of will. The ability to withstand injuries that would kill a younger vampire, among other things." Abberline's head tilted to the side as he studied Sands' face. "We don't inherit everything from one another. You know that. But it will link us directly. It may save both our lives."  
  
"What is coming?" Sands asked.  
  
"I have told you all I have seen."  
  
"Does Lilith."  
  
"No," Abberline cut him off. You must not tell her. She must not even be able to read it in your mind. I can take care of that."  
  
Sands' mouth fell open. "You can even do that?"  
  
"I can create walls in my mind, divisions, cutting off certain areas so that no one but I knows what's there. Lilith, as you know, can read almost anyone's mind. She can read what I allow her to read of mine, but not what I hide from her."  
  
"I hope I inherit that from you," Sands told him honestly, edging closer, eager to take what Abberline was offering.  
  
A small smile crept across Abberline's somber face, sending a spark flaming into his eyes, adding warmth and humor where there had been only business and gravity. "I hope so too." He looked almost shyly at Sands. "You have had more experience than I in this than I."  
  
Now Sands' gaze was drawn toward the other vampire's neck, the angle of his jaw, the barely perceptible flowing of blood beneath the surface of pale white skin. He gently grasped the other vampire's shoulders. Abberline returned the gesture, holding onto Sands. He threw his head back as Sands' mouth touched his neck. Abberline's mouth opened in a wordless cry as Sands' teeth broke the flawless skin, sinking in, and his lips closed over the surface. Sands drank deeply of the dark red of Abberline's blood. The ecstasy was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before, a deep steady pulsing that drew him in deeper and deeper. His thoughts were sucked into a whirling vortex of almost unbearable pleasure. The thrill rippled through him, and he could feel an answering shudder in Abberline.  
  
"Enough. Enough." Strong hands pushed Sands away and he stood, mouth open, pupils dilated, still caught up in the heady elation.  
  
Blinking, Sands' gaze began to focus once again. He saw that Abberline looked flushed, the wounds in his neck already healing.  
  
"Now," Abberline spoke more softly than before, "you will keep this hidden in your mind. No one shall know. When you need the strength to hide your thoughts, you shall have it. When you need the strength to keep alive, you shall have it."  
  
"I hope so," Sands nodded. He tried to feel if he felt any different, but the excitement of the encounter overrode any other sensations he might have.  
  
"Go back to your friends," Abberline said. "I will speak with Quinn."  
  
Nodding silently, Sands turned and went up the stairs. He felt elated, almost as if he'd somehow accomplished some great feat. With every step he locked the memory away deeper within his mind. By the time he stepped out into the first floor hallway, his memory was secure.  
  
* * 


	33. Sands Day 4 part 6 ready for a rescue

Now Sands took the memory out, carefully examined it, then resealed it. He would survive this. He assumed he had convinced Viscalli to eliminate Jacob and ally himself with Sands, but nothing had happened yet.  
  
Settling down for the long wait as Viscalli's prisoner which, he supposed, was meant to demoralize him, he focused again on sounds. Footsteps, at least three pair, were walking on a stone staircase not too far away. He glued his attention to those footsteps as they continued toward him. Turning his dark head and blowing the hair out of his eyes, Sands looked at the door and waited, trepidation mixing with dread. He countered with his mantra. "I throw shapes. I throw shapes," he mouthed silently now. The door opened. Viscalli entered first, Jacob at his heels, and unexpectedly a wizen Chinese thrall, who looked nearly a hundred. The feeble creature carried with him a bundle. Something licked at Sands' awareness, something vile that made his skin crawl. A coldness emanated from that bundle.   
  
At a flick of Viscalli's hand, the thrall went to the small credenza behind Sands' head and out of view. Jacob circled Sands' table, a little smile playing on his face, one Sands wanted to claw off at the first possible moment. What had happened to Viscalli to turn him against him, Sands wondered. He thought he had fed him enough crap to win him over, but the towering vampire looked cold, almost indifferent as he gazed down. A blue fire burned in Viscalli's eyes as his pale gaze locked with Sands' own dark one. "You thought to play me." Viscalli stated. "But there was a vital piece of information you lacked." His lips rose in the slightest hint of a smile. "I have a talent I share with one of your friends, it would seem, and I thought I was alone, of all of us, with this special talent." He leaned in closer to Sands, his lips almost brushing the younger vampire's earlobe. "It has kept me alive all this time, Sands. It will keep me alive when the rest of you are dust." 'Not good,' Sands thought. He had no idea what this 'talent' was, but it was obvious he would not be watching Jacob die any time soon.  
  
"Tell me, Sands, how do you like the touch of silver?" Jacob asked, a smirk on his face.  
  
Now Sands knew what the thrall had carried in. 'Not good at all,' he thought. 


	34. Victoria and the Guardians search day 4

Victoria day 4 part 7  
  
Victoria couldn't believe she was there again in Pilis. The world has changed so much in the last 200 hundred years and yet the place looked the same. It sent a shiver down her spine. She stared out the window through the fog created by her own breath. It's was cold out, very cold but that just enhanced the darkness of the forest, the richness of the greens. Victoria wished that she could walk out of the vehicle and into that tree line, run her fingertips across the cold, wet, velvety branches and just disappear.  
  
Her eyes turned toward Lilith in the front seat. She sat very quietly with her eyes straight ahead. Occasionally mumbling to herself, or to Quinn. She could no longer sense him and this troubled her greatly. Lilith was certain he was still alive, if his life force had been extinguished, she was certain she would have known. Victoria wrinkled her forehead at this, an audible sigh had escaped her lips. She wanted to explore Lilith's mind, know her secrets, perhaps then she would not feel so much like a lamb lead to the slaughter. Lilith would do anything to save Sands, even if that meant that she had to sacrifice everyone in the car, of that she was completely sure. Lilith tilted her head toward the back seat, and Victoria averted her eyes for she also had the gift.  
  
Victoria wondered how much stronger she would have been if she had practiced the use of this strange gift the last hundred years. Would she be able to break through Lilith's walls? She smiled a little and shifted uncomfortably in her seat, bothered by many things. She could feel Connor. He hadn't picked up on her yet, but she could feel him. He was within a hundred miles. Victoria knew that it was unusual to be able to detect ones sire in that way. You must be in a closer proximity to feel them and they usually feel your presence first, but she had made it her mission to keep away from that man. Perhaps her ability to read minds had kept her more attuned to him, one step ahead. If Jacob Connor Mac Cloud had been smarter perhaps he would have been able to detect her. Luckily, he wasn't. Victoria exhaled.  
  
Weary, Victoria closed her eyes and listened. First she heard the thoughts of Klein and Jackson, the thralls Sands and she had put under their control before things went terribly wrong. Both were concerned about the situation, but for different reasons. Klein worried that Sands was going to rip him from limb to limb once free and learns how much trouble he had had keeping Victoria safe from harm. Klein just prayed that she wouldn't be hurt.  
  
Jackson had thoughts of a far different nature. Perhaps she had not enthrall him properly? Victoria wrinkled her forehead and opened her mind to him.  
  
"Yes, Miss Dupree?" He asked sweetly.  
  
"Are you ready Jackson?" she inquired.  
  
"Very, Miss Dupree." He replied very self assured, but there is something he was trying hiding. She smiled at his poor attempt.  
  
"Jackson?"   
  
"Yes, Miss Dupree?"  
  
"Don't worry so much, I'll be fine." Quickly she shut him out before he could reply. Strange, Victoria turned in the seat and looked at him briefly, for a moment their eyes locked. Strange. "Jackson?"  
  
"Yes, Miss. Dupree?"  
  
"You don't belong to me, you shouldn't be having those thoughts."  
  
"I don't know what you mean Miss. . . , "  
  
She cut him off. "You belong to the Guardians, not to me. I am just borrowing you, remember that." He smiled and nodded his head. Jackson listened, but his mind sought other possibilities. He desired to be turned and felt that Victoria was the one who would do it. Sands would tear him apart for those thoughts. Very presumptuous for a human to believe he could be anything more that what he was, or for Jackson to have perceived her to be so weak.  
  
Clearing her mind Victoria tired to refocus. Her head still ached from her encounter with Viscalli. Such power behind that icy stare! She wondered if she could perhaps read Sands mind, help to locate him and bring this adventure to a quick end. She had not tried before, having felt it was not her place to pry. Sands seemed to have many secrets, then again so did she and everyone had a right to privacy. Perhaps one day he will trust me enough to let me in, perhaps if we live long enough. At that moment she was beginning to have her doubts. The line of black innocuous SUV's, fully packed with a heavily armed assault team was speeding down the road into what might be their doom. As the road curved she caught sight of the convoy, which twisted like a serpent. Victoria stared at the last vehicle. Only two passengers appeared to riding in it. How strange, all the others were fully packed. 


	35. Victoria and the Guardians day 4 part 8

Victoria day 4 part 8  
  
The parade of automobiles slowed down then pulled off the road onto the logging trail. They drove into the woods until the last of the cars was no longer visible from the road, then came to a halt.  
  
Up ahead the trees were thicker and the vehicles would have to be left behind. Doors began to open and the Guardians came pouring out. The woods were filled with the clicking of the weapon checks. Victoria remained seated watching with interest the movements of those around her. She was aware of Klein and Jackson, The two thralls waited beside her car door, eyes scanning the surrounding woods. Her eyes followed their line of sight into the woods, she was trying to get her bearings. Was this the same road she had made her escape from a century ago?  
  
The forest could be a confusing place. Coming back after so long, nothing looked like a landmark. She took a deep breath and tried to recall if there were any landmarks that might look the same. Yes, she remembered, there had been the bombed out body of a tank from World War II not too far from the tunnel's exit. With this memory, she exited the SUV.  
  
"Miss Dupree?" questioned Jackson as he looked uneasily at Klein.  
  
"Come with me, " she replied as she straightened her Kevlar jacket and checked to make sure her weapons were loaded.  
  
"But Miss Dupree, I believe you are supposed to stay with the vehicles." Klein interjected.  
  
Victoria frowned at the thralls. She shrugged her shoulders. "Suit yourselves." She began to head off along the logging road. The two quickly followed. A strange sensation was growing in the back of her mind, gradually making her more uneasy with the situation at hand.  
  
The uneasiness turned into a certainty that someone was watching her. She stopped suddenly, the two humans following her almost plowing into her.  
  
"What." Klein started in a hushed voice.  
  
Her look was enough to silence him. Her eyes took in everything; sunlight and shadow. There was nothing. No one. Yet the sensation stayed with her.  
  
She remained still, as if listening to the forest itself and then slowly she resumed her motion. Occasionally she would stop and move the under brush and then continue on. Finally Klein broke his silence. "What are you looking for?" he questioned.  
  
Victoria turned on him with an intense look. He knew to hold his tongue. Then her attention shifted. There it was again, the intense feeling of being watched. She turned slowly in a circle eyes quickly scanning the surroundings.  
  
Far off to her left she could sense the Guardians and someone was coming towards her little group. Her hand reached toward the holster she wore and slowly drew the weapon. She quickly glanced down to make sure the safety was off. When she looked back up, she could see someone walking, his face in shadow, but his eyes glittering in the filtered light. Andre.  
  
She exhaled deeply, relived to see him and re-holstered her weapon. Victoria waited for Andre to approach.  
  
"What are you doing so far from the group?" Andre asked in his velvet-and- brandy voice.  
  
For a moment she lowered her eyes as a child does when they have been caught in the act of breaking a rule, then she flashed her lovely smile at him. "Looking for the entrance to a tunnel I once used to get out of the manor house." She turned her head to look down the road and then returned her attention to him. "I am sure it is close by." Again she smiled engagingly.  
  
Andre stepped right up to her and took her arm. "Why didn't you tell us?" he asked, his face grim. "This is not a tea party, Victoria. We're all risking our lives." He released her arm as his laser-sharp gaze bore into Jackson. "Why didn't you do your job, thrall?"  
  
Victoria turned her head and quickly shot a glance towards Jackson. But it was to late, the impulsive thrall stepped forward.   
  
"I am doing my job!" he retorted.  
  
Andre already angry with Victoria moved at the speed of light turning on the man with a dark dangerous scowl. Victoria quickly slipped between the two; the human and the vampire, all the while shouting at Jackson in his mind to stand down!   
  
"I was ordered to stay with her and make sure no harm came to her! She left the convoy and I accompanied her!"  
  
"Stupid thrall! I'll rip out your throat!" Andre's eyes flashed with rage as he pressed forward.  
  
"Please! Stop!" Victoria interjected placing her hands against Andre's chest. "Andre it's my fault! You know he must obey, how could he stop me? He is after all, only a human." Victoria pulled at Andre's coat. "He's rash and doesn't know his place, but this isn't the time." Slowly she felt him relax against her grip. He was still angry, but his eyes were beginning to soften.  
  
Klein walked forward and tugged on Jackson's sleeve, pulling him back to a safe distance.   
  
"This was a very foolish thing to do, " Andre scolded, as he took her hands in his and removed them from his coat. "You could have been killed!"  
  
Victoria knew when to play her part and agreed with all Andre's warnings and begged his forgiveness for her rash behavior.  
  
When amends had been made Andre again raised the question of the tunnel.  
  
"It's a narrow underground passage that ran from the tree line, under the yard and up into the cellar almost a mile in length." She gestured with her hands to emphasize the route.  
  
"Is the exit marked?" Andre inquired.  
  
"Not originally, but in WW2 this area saw a lot fighting and the entrance became marked by a burnt-out tank." Victoria turned and faced the path.  
  
"You all heard the lady," Andre shouted, "Tank." With that the Guardians surged forward. 


	36. Victoria and the Guardians Day 4 part 9

Victoria Day 4 part 9  
  
Victoria's eyes followed the forms of the Guardians as they interlaced themselves between trees and shrubs. Then she turned her eyes back towards Andre and lowered her voice so that she would not be overheard by the thralls who stood guard nearby. "Andre?" She waited for him to look at her. "Andre, I was just trying to be helpful. I would not have gone into the tunnel."  
  
He turned dark eyes on her, his face still stern. "You should not have left the group. Just think what would happen if they captured you." He tilted his head to the side as he spoke. "Come. Let us look for your landmark." He gestured with the sweep of a gloved hand.  
  
Victoria nodded her head and stepped forward along the path. She felt more secure with Andre at her side, it was clear that the handsome Spaniard was no stranger to conflict, but still she felt as if someone, or thing were watching her. Victoria's eyes scanned the landscape. Occasionally she would stop and stand motionless, as if willing the forest to part and reveal its secrets. "It was a long time ago, " she mumbled partly to herself. "The last time I used the tunnel."  
  
He walked beside her, his eyes scanning in every direction, including above, she noticed. Behind them the two thralls followed as quietly as they could manage. After a while she began to feel a sense of familiarity. Cocking her head to the side, she looked up at the trees, ahead at the lay of the barely discernable trail.  
  
"What is it?" Andre's voice was warmer now. She looked at him and saw he had a hand on the pommel of his sword.  
  
"Up ahead, " she pointed with a smile. "I think I've found it. Call the others." Victoria rushed forward to a strange outcropping of rocks and bushes. As she pulled at the greenery the rusted form of an old tank began to appear. She could hardly contain her excitement. After all these years she had found the tunnel after all!  
  
She could hear a bird whistle and turned in time to see that it was Andre. He moved silently to join her and from out of the surrounding trees other dark forms appeared. Victoria saw Lilith among them. They formed a semi- circle around the tunnel opening.  
  
"Check it out," Quinn ordered three of the Guardians with electronic gadgets. Victoria could only guess what they were for. The three Guardians moved forward slowly, holding their devices in front of them, reminding her of Star Trek characters using their tricorders to explore an unknown planet.  
  
"What are they doing?" she whispered to Andre.  
  
The Spaniard shrugged. "Checking for traps," he said. Not helpful. She looked at Quinn. He was conferring with a large red-headed Guardian, the two holding a map or blueprint. He looked too busy for her to bother with her questions.  
  
"Traps?" she paused. "But the walls were solid stone, at least 4 feet thick." Victoria turned her eyes towards Lilith. "I don't think Jacob even knew about the tunnel."  
  
Andre looked at her. "They could have installed infrared detection equipment. Sound or movement sensors. Cameras."  
  
Victoria exhaled as she crossed he arms across her chest. She liked the old world better than this new modern one. I guess there was no choice but to wait for the Guardians to give the all clear.  
  
She felt it again. The strange sensation between her shoulder blades that someone was watching her. She turned slowly, looking at those around her and past them. She couldn't see anyone beyond the Guardians except Klein and Jackson, but the feeling lingered.  
  
Victoria turned her attention towards Lilith and opened her mind to her. "Something's not right." Her eyes pleaded with Lilith to respond.  
  
Meeting her gaze, Lilith simply shook her head, then looked away. Victoria found Andre watching her.  
  
Suddenly, with only a hint of sound, the Guardians began to move forward. Lilith fell into place in their midst. Andre took Victoria's arm and steered her toward the tunnel. This was it.  
  
Still that feeling lingered. Why had Lilith refused to respond? Was her desire to rescue Sands so powerful that she had shut her mind to reason?  
  
Victoria and Andre were two of the last of the vampires to enter the tunnel. The narrow walls twisted like a snake and the cold closed in upon them. It was dank and was filled with the smell of wet stone. The only footsteps that were heard were those of the two thralls bringing up the rear. Victoria's had slowly reached for her weapon.  
  
"May I use a flashlight?" Klein asked in a hushed voice.  
  
Victoria looked to Andre for direction. Would light give them away? He shrugged. "You two better stay here, where you can see."  
  
The two thralls nodded.  
  
Victoria watched the expression on their faces. The grimness was authentic.  
  
"Come," Andre said to her. He started forward. She could hear the hiss of metal as he drew his sword from it's sheath. Obviously he felt that they were in danger.  
  
The group walked in silence for some time through the twisting pathways. At certain points they had to walk single file when the passage became too narrow, but Victoria was certain they were close.  
  
"Towards the end, the tunnel will open up into a large earthen root cellar. The entrance into the manor house itself will be to the left, behind some wine racks," she whispered to Andre.  
  
"We should tell those up front." He gestured for her to quicken her pace and they moved forward through the dark figures.  
  
As they reached the front of the line Andre called softly to Quinn. He held up his hand into a fist and the entire party stopped. Victoria watched as Andre repeated her instructions to him. Quinn seemed to be calculating their next move even as Andre spoke. For a moment he looked past Andre to her and then he turned and looked down the tunnel. Quinn called a tall red- headed Guardian to his side. The two conferred with each other for a moment. Again  
  
Victoria felt strange, a heat between her shoulder blades. It had grown stronger as they traveled through the darkness. Victoria reached for her back as if to scratch an itch and shut her eyes.  
  
The sound of weapons being primed called her back. Everyone was putting their weapons on semi-automatic. This could only mean they expected a welcoming party. 


	37. Sands still a prisoner Day 4 part 10

Sands – Day four Part 10  
  
It became apparent to Sands that shelling his thoughts off from any probing did nothing to diminish the pain of the silver. As the little thrall came over to his side, a long thin skewer in his hands, Viscalli even stepped back to avoid the silver's aura.  
  
"Remember," Viscalli spoke softly in French to the Chinese thrall, "we don't want him dead. We want pain, as bad as you can make it, but not death. He's to valuable to me alive." Sands saw Viscalli smile across at Jacob, who had a petrified grisly grin on his face. "At least," Viscalli continued in English, "his blood is valuable to me."  
  
The silver mesmerized Sands as the light glinted off its length. He couldn't tear his eyes away as the thrall held it over him, as if searching his left arm for the proper point. Then it descended and the tip bore into him with the intense, searing pain only silver could bring to a vampire. Sand's body arched in pain, his head going back, his jaw clenching as he fought to contain the scream that would otherwise erupt and shame him.  
  
"...a pressure point," the thrall was explaining in French. Sands had missed the first part. "On a human, just applying pressure here can immobilize the arm."  
  
It was a good thing he didn't have to breathe to live, Sands decided, because the moment the silver had entered his body he had ceased breathing and he decided that not breathing was the best way not to scream. He forced his eyes open as he sensed more movement on the thrall's part, and saw that the little man had another silver skewer in his hands. Deep within, Sands felt his body's involuntary shudder. Maybe the skewers wouldn't kill him, but the pain was already close to making him pass out. He hoped this second one would push him over the edge into oblivion.  
  
Consciously, he knew Viscalli was speaking, but his ears were flooding with the pounding of his body's pulse as the second piece of cursed silver bit into the crook of his neck. Pain so intense it was almost exquisite flooded through him, paralyzing him. Blackness nibbled at his mind. The inner shuddering grew more pronounced. Before he could compensate for this new blinding pain, another skewer was shoved into the other side of his neck.  
  
The world exploded in agony and Sands surrendered to the welcoming darkness.  
  
*~*~* His smile turning into a frown, Jacob stood at the foot of the table upon which Sands was restrained. "He's passed out." His gaze went from the thrall to Viscalli. "I thought he could keep Sands awake through this."  
  
Viscalli was also frowning. He lashed out at the thrall. "You were supposed to keep him conscious. He's not going to attract them if he's unconscious."  
  
Cowering, the thrall picked up another skewer. "He'll wake. He's not dead."  
  
"Of course he's not dead," Viscalli hissed. "But I wanted him awake."  
  
"The silver is very painful."  
  
Viscalli rolled his eyes. "Of course it is, you moron. You moved too quickly."  
  
Jacob moved around behind Viscalli. He spoke to the older vampire in English, knowing the thrall didn't understand. "Maybe we should teach him a lesson, stick a few pins in his skinny ass."  
  
"No," Viscalli said, his voice flat, as he turned to face Jacob. "He is usually good at his work, but I think he's getting a little senile." Viscalli turned back to address the thrall and saw he had another silver skewer in his hand. "What are you doing?" he demanded.  
  
"Inflicting pain," the thrall said happily.  
  
"He's already passed out." Viscalli's eyes narrowed. "Put that down and leave us."  
  
"Where should I go?"  
  
"He's a moron," Jacob reiterated.  
  
"Go sit on the chair in the hallway," Viscalli directed the thrall. "I'll call when you can come back."  
  
The thrall put his skewer back on the little table where he had unrolled his bundle of them, and left the room.  
  
Viscalli turned to address Jacob again, when another vampire came rushing into the room, almost knocking the exiting thrall over. "Sir, there's fighting going on. Intruders," the vampire announced.  
  
"Already?" Viscalli raised a brow. "How did they get in without being seen?" He frowned, wondering if the presence he'd felt going through his mind a while ago had actually gotten useful information without him knowing it. He dismissed that notion. "Jacob, are there other ways in and out of here, other than the doors and windows?"  
  
A little slow at times, Jacob thought back. "There was a tunnel I used, but it hasn't been used in over a hundred years. I'm not sure where it is. How could the Abberline Clan know where it is?"  
  
"Blueprints?" Viscalli suggested.  
  
"There are none of that tunnel." Jacob frowned. "Unless..."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Victoria." 


	38. Abberline gets involved

Moving like a shadow among them, Frederick Abberline strolled quietly past the thralls at the tunnels entrance. He walked in silence, his mind cloaking him not only from the eyes and ears of the two men there, but from their thoughts as well.  
  
He wore guns holstered under each arm and a gun loaded with silver- filled bullets in his left hand. A slender backpack rested snugly against his back. He moved, assured of his destination, past his own Guardians and his beloved Lilith. No one could see or sense him. A sly smile graced his fair features.  
  
As the Guardians opened the door into the basement, Abberline was the first to step through. Studying the entrance, he wondered why it was secreted on this side. As he passed the large dusty wine rack and slid through the open door, he could see it was just as well disguised on the other side.  
  
Abberline was forced to quicken his steps to stay ahead of the Guardians, who moved quickly in to secure the area. At the end of the long narrow hallway, a number of Viscalli's troops came rushing down the stairs. Abberline stepped out of their way, allowing the young vampires to pass. He looked back at his own Guardians and hoped that they didn't accidentally shoot him as he slipped behind the enemy and continued up the stairs two at a time. During his ascent the sound of gunfire echoed from below.  
  
Viscalli's troops were more disorganized on the upper basement level. Abberline clung to the walls to avoid being hit by panicked vampires. His sense of Sands' location drew him down the hall and to a short side passageway on the right. A small, very old man stood there, his head down, mumbling to himself. The man's thrall state caused Abberline's nose to wrinkle in disgust. This human had been a thrall for way too long. He no longer knew how to think for himself and his state drove him to madness.  
  
A young, panic-stricken vampire less than ten years turned rushed past Abberline and the crazy thrall down the short passageway and flung open the door at the end. Abberline listened carefully as the vampire called out a warning about the attack, then two more vampires followed the first one out. Cringing and going flat against the wall as they ran by, Abberline sensed a great power and evil in the taller of the two vampires.  
  
Once they passed, Abberline felt Sands was very close. Moving slowly and carefully into the room, he spied Sands, unmoving, unclothed and secured to a table of some sort. Sensing a new danger, Abberline paused. From the doorway he could feel the effects of the silver, reminding him of how the influenza felt when he was human. It would not be wise for him to attempt to touch the stuff. He turned his head back toward the crazy thrall; now his presence made sense.  
  
Abberline retraced his steps to stand behind the thrall. "You will go in and remove the silver from the prisoner in the room now," he said carefully in English. The thrall shook his head and responded in French that he did not understand. Abberline repeated his instructions in French. That worked. The mad little thrall shuffled back into the room, mumbling to himself.  
  
Watching from the entrance, Abberline saw the man pluck three long thick sliver needles from Sands, then turn, eyes glassy, as if waiting for more instructions. Abberline had no time to feel pity for the creature. he walked up behind him. "Go upstairs. Tell them Lucifer is here," he commanded.  
  
The man's face reflected his fear and comprehension. He ran off, obeying the voice that spoke to him.  
  
Setting the safety of his drawn weapon on, Abberline tucked the gun he held into his belt. He moved in a blur of speed to Sands and began unfastening his bonds. "Wake up," he hissed to Sands. "Get up now!" He sent the message both verbally and mentally, forcing his commands into Sands unconscious mind.  
  
Sands' eyes flew open and he turned his head to meet Abberline's gaze.  
  
"You can see me, I hope," Abberline whispered.  
  
"Yes, sir." Sands sounded alert and oriented, although that was far from the truth.  
  
"The troops have arrived. Time to make an exit." Abberline finished unfastening the bonds on Sands' legs. "Up, lad."  
  
"Lad?" Sands asked sitting up. "Technically, I'm older than you. Sir." he sat on the edge of the table and glanced down. "And naked."  
  
Frowning Abberline looked at him, then passed him the gun he'd tucked into his belt. "Now you're dressed."  
  
"Ah, perfect," Sands said, a gleeful smile spreading across his handsome features. "I want to kill some Viscalli in general, and then Viscalli himself, and Jacob, that cur! I want him dead first."  
  
"Don't dawdle. First we rejoin our own," Abberline told him.  
  
Sands stood up, surprised at his ability to do so. The pain from the silver did not fade like the regular injuries, but continued to burn throughout his body. "Where are they?" He checked his weapon, then flipped the safety off.  
  
"Below. They do not know that I am here." Abberline moved to the doorway and looked down the short passage. He moved, with an unconscious grace.  
  
"You mean you hid even from the Guardians?" Sands asked, coming to stand beside him. "May I ask why?"  
  
"And from Lilith," Abberline smiled as if he had said something funny.  
  
"She's going to be angry." Sands began to move down the passage. A vampire darted across the opening, one of Viscalli's troops. Sands didn't hesitate. Moving on instinct, he raised his gun and fired. The vampire fell down, his head blown almost clean off.  
  
"Let's hope his pants fit," Sands muttered, rushing down to the corpse. He looked left and right, then grabbed the dead vampire's ankles and dragged him back into the passage. "I guess it would be too much to hope his shoes fit."  
  
"Get dressed then," Abberline grumbled. "If you'd do what I told you, no one would see you anyway. Being naked is meaningless."  
  
"I need practice with the mind cloak," Sands retorted, pulling the pants and shoes from the corpse. "I appreciate you giving the gift to me, don't take me wrong, but we didn't have much time for instruction and no time for practice." He handed his gun to Abberline, using both of his hands to get into the pants, he pulled them up. They were way too large for his slender hips, so he tied the cloth belt tightly, then held out his hand for the gun. "We were lucky it worked. More than 80 per cent of the time, you can't pass on a gift like that," Sands continued talking in a conversational tone, trying to keep his mind off the pain.  
  
"It worked because I put intent behind it." Abberline handed the gun back," Ready?"  
  
"Ready," Sands replied with a nod.  
  
The two moved into the hallway as Abberline drew one of his remaining weapons. 'This way." He gestured for Sands to follow him to the left. "Don't shoot our Guardians." Abberline warned, "Oh, and your new friend Victoria is here, also."  
  
"I'll kill someone if she or Lilith is hurt," Sands said, his tone suddenly vicious. "Why didn't you tell them you would come, and why did you let them come to begin with?" he asked again.  
  
"That would be up to you," Abberline told him, "but they have their own minds lad."  
  
Sands noticed Abberline wasn't answering his question and he bit back a retort at the response. That would be for another time. They came to the stairs and he sensed several vampires below. "We could just join our people and leave," he whispered to Abberline.  
  
"Or we could call them up and go after Viscalli," Abberline told him. "I sense he will be a continuing problem if he escapes tonight."  
  
Pausing, Sands looked at Abberline. "What do you foresee?"  
  
Brown eyes met brown eyes. Before Abberline could answer, bullets bit into the back wall behind Sands. Both vampires turned, ducked, and fired back.  
  
~*~  
  
Victoria clung to the wall weapon in hand. Bullets flew by as the Guardians made quick work of Viscalli's troops. Bodies fell to the ground screaming as the silver ripped through their flesh. Her eyes scanned the corridor. Lilith stood surround by a small group of Guardians, she seemed uninjured. They would be sure to keep her safe.  
  
The gunfire quieted and for a brief moment Victoria's and Lilith's eyes met; a cool, emotionless exchange.  
  
Victoria turned as she heard the distinct sound of metal scraping against bone in time to see Andre running his sword across the throat of the last Viscalli foot soldier. Victoria watched as he knelt down to wipe his blade clean on the shirt of the vampire he'd just slain. A smile graced his full lips.  
  
Her attention was quickly diverted back to the threat from above, her eyes frantically searched the ceiling. Every nerve in her body was standing on end. He was coming, and he was not alone! Victoria decided to meet Jacob on his own ground.  
  
She glanced around and located a familiar staircase which she knew would grant her quick access to the general quarters; library, parlor, study. She remembered a servant's passage, designed to allow free movement from floor to floor without the inconvenience of being seen by the masters. Seeing the Guardians otherwise occupied, Victoria quickly headed for the passage.  
  
"Victoria!" Andre called to her. He appeared annoyed to see her slipping away unattended once again. "Victoria!" he called once more taking a step forward. She stopped and looked at him fiercely with her glowing green eyes.  
  
"Andre," she called to him silently. Andre's eyes widened in surprise. "Andre, Jacob is coming. Viscalli is with him. He is determined to find me. We, after all, have unfinished business to attend to. We cannot let them near Lilith. That is what Viscalli wants." Andre looked confused and angry, as he paused.  
  
"I'll go with you," he thought back as he took a step forward, "My brother would want that."  
  
"No, " Victoria said as she looked over his shoulder towards the main stair. "You're about to have company."  
  
Andre turned his head ever so slightly and listened. A smile appeared as he lifted his sword. Victoria smiled back and slipped away. As she headed up the stair case, weapon in hand, her smile quickly turned to a scowl. She felt the blood pumping through her body, her senses were heightened. Her sire's presence called to her. This was the closest she'd been to Jacob Connor McCloud in over 100 years. She checked that the safety was off on her weapon as she neared the top of the staircase. Soon it would all be over.  
  
Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall. Victoria pressed herself into the small space between the wall and a large curio cabinet. A small group of Viscalli foot soldiers ran past, too young, and too focused to notice her. At that moment something inside her snapped. She raised her weapon and carefully took aim at the back of the head of the last vampire. Remembering Sands instructions she exhaled and gently squeezed the trigger. The bullet found its mark as it struck the back of the young vampire's head propelling him forward into the others with a spray of blood! (To Be Continued) 


	39. Victoria meets an old enemy

As Victoria turned and ran down the hall, she could hear the angry shouts of the Viscalli, followed quickly by a spray of gunfire. She was grateful for the Kevlar she wore and prayed she would be quicker than her pursuers.  
  
She unconsciously ducked her head and the bullets flew by. They were close! If she could just make it down the hall and into the parlor where she could barricade the heavy doors, she would be safe. Victoria glanced down hallways as she ran past and saw no one. That was good, she didn't want to run straight into the arms of Jacob.  
  
Victoria skidded to a halt as she rounded a corner, she remembered the parlor was halfway down the corridor. The Viscalli were gaining! They opened fire again, bullets hitting far down the hall ahead of her and into the next passageway. Luckily they were bad shots.  
  
As she slowed to open the parlor doors another volley of bullets came from the opposite direction! Victoria pressed herself as flat as she could against the door frame. Bullets whizzed by, for a moment she shut her eyes, while frantically giggling the handles. She felt the lock give and quickly turned her head to see where the second barrage of gunfire hailed from. Friend or foe? Curiously she saw nothing. Puzzled, she slipped into the parlor and bolted the doors from the inside.  
  
Victoria felt more secure once she slide the bolts into place. Momentarily she rested her head against the large wooden doors. Where was the second gunfire from? She had seen nothing. Opening her eyes she saw that she still held the gun in her hand. Checking the safety she re-holstered the weapon.  
  
Turning, Victoria saw that the parlor mostly looked the same. Jacob had added a few more modern pieces of furniture to it. Suddenly her heart began to race! There was another set of doors opposite her, wide open. How stupid of her, she thought. Now she remembered there were four entrances to this room. North, south, east and west. Two large sets of doors and two smaller sets hidden by large velvet draperies. She would have to secure them all, or move along to another room. In any event she was no longer safe.  
  
She began to make her way across the room toward the other set of doors. It was a large room, what could be called a grand room, 150 feet wide. Silently she slipped past winged-back chairs and small mahogany tea tables. She found it hard to breath. God, Jacob was close!  
  
Even as she approached the southern doors, she could hear the footsteps of someone coming towards it. Quickening her pace, she realized she would not arrive before the other person. A new tactic was called for. She dashed around one of the larger tables in the room, putting it between herself and whoever was coming. Holding her gun firmly in her right hand, she cupped it with her left and stood aiming at the entrance.  
  
Victoria felt fear surging through her blood. Her eyes widened as Jacob Connor McCloud rushed into the room. Seeing her, a twisted smile spread across his lips and he began to laugh.  
  
"How appropriate," he said, his voice dripping with venom. "Don't tell me, you're one of Sands' whores."  
  
Her eyes narrowed at the sound of his voice and the hairs stood up on the back of her neck. She smiled, "Hello Connor." She tilted her head. "I liked you better when your hair was dark."  
  
"You never liked me better," he hissed, his mouth pulling down into a frown. "You loved your dear brother more than me. So, have you come to rescue Sands or to kill me? Such choices one must make." Slowly, he edged closer to her, his own gun held down. Wisely, he did not raise it towards her.  
  
Victoria matched his steps, keeping the distance between them and her eyes locked with his. "Of course I loved Claude. But you took that away from me, you took everything away from me. But as for Sands, the Guardians will take care of him, so I can give my full attention to you."  
  
A harsh laugh escaped his lips. "That would be a first, my dear Victoria. If you had only loved me the way you should have, things would have been different between us. You were always so difficult. So contrary. Like now." He continued to move around the table as he spoke.  
  
"Contrary!" she exploded. "I tried to love you as you wanted. I did everything to please you!" She hissed. "The problem was you and Lilith. I wasn't Lilith!" she screamed.  
  
"Don't speak her name." His voice was suddenly cold as iron, his eyes narrow slits of steal. "She's here, isn't she? Viscalli said Sands would bring her to me."  
  
Victoria shook her head in disgust. "Of course she's here." Victoria moved slowly to her left placing yet another piece of furniture in between her and her maker. "You never saw what you had, you were so obsessed with her."  
  
"I had a cold hard woman who loved her own brother more than me and one who could never be what I really wanted," he growled. "I bet the two of you love sharing stories, don't you?"  
  
"I hate you Connor. You made me hate you with each member of my family you murdered and then with each beating you gave me I hated you even more." Victoria bared her fangs.  
  
"So you hate me enough to join forces with the likes of Lilith and Sands?" he snarled, his lip curling in distaste. "You don't know what you're dealing with, sweetheart." He leaned over the table towards her. "Haven't you heard about him? About them?"  
  
Victoria didn't respond. She feared Jacob could see the doubt in her eyes.  
  
His snarl turned into a triumphant smirk. "He's mad, twisted, a killer," hissed Jacob. "And she's screwing him behind Abberline's back. They all know it."  
  
His words dug straight into her heart. "You're a lair!" she tightened her grip on her weapon. Suddenly Victoria remembered herself and she allowed her mind to brush up against Jacob's. It only took a fraction of a second, but she knew he was just mouthing rumors he'd heard fourth and fifth hand.  
  
Victoria laughed. "You're a lair," she said softly. "And I'm not going to run from you anymore. Your lies sent me into isolation from our kind. A loneliness that was at times more than I could bear." She smirked as she announced: "Tonight it will all end."  
  
"How?" he asked, raising his chin. "You just gonna murder me, girl?"  
  
"I did once before," she whispered  
  
"Yeah, bitch, I owe you for that one." His jaw clenched and his look glittered with pure evil. He began to raise his gun.  
  
Without warning, there was the sound of a shot. Victoria jumped in surprise, her eyes still on Jacob. He had a surprised look on his face as blood blossomed from the hole in his neck. His gun dropped from nerveless fingers, then his body crumpled to the ground.  
  
Walking silently, Sands came up beside Victoria. "I've wanted to do that for a long time," he said in a calm low voice.  
  
Victoria stood there frozen, eyes fixed on vampire at her feet. She watched as the blood poured out from the small hole in his neck.  
  
"Do you want to finish him off, or shall I?" Sands asked her, his gun already aiming at Jacob's heart.  
  
"I'll do it," she said quietly. Victoria walked forward and knelt down on one knee. She placed the barrel of the gun against the side of Jacob Connor McCloud's head. "Goodbye Connor," she said flatly and squeezed the trigger.  
  
"Stupid bloody bastard." Sands' voice was flat. "We should get back to the others," he said standing beside her again. "Come on." He offered her a hand. She was still in something of a state of shock. Looking up, she saw him gazing down at her, his face pale, a small quirky smile on his mouth.  
  
The sound of his voice brought her back. She holstered her weapon and placed her hand in his. "Are you all right?" she asked as he helped her to her feet. "You look so pale." She reached for his cheek.  
  
"Nothing a little being away from this place won't heal," he told her. "We're not out of danger yet." His gaze went to her now-holstered gun. "Better keep that handy." He reached with a hand to lightly touch her cheek. "I missed you."  
  
Victoria exhaled deeply feeling as if she had freed herself from a tremendous weight. "I was so worried about you." she stepped closer. "I had to come."  
  
He held up his hand, keeping her away from the hug she wanted. "I'm a little sore." He shrugged, looking down at the wounds from the silver that looked blackened around the edges. As if a mask was slipping into place, a frown darkened his features. "You should not have come. You put yourself in danger needlessly." His voice was stern, and even though Victoria knew he spoke out of fear for her, his words were pushing old buttons.  
  
Her eyes looked at his wounds and the anger within her grew. Jacob had done it one last time, he'd hurt someone she'd cared about. "That's not important," she said dismissively, turning her green eyes on him. "They wouldn't have found you without me." She wanted to touch him but knew how painful the silver was, she could still feel the residual effects of the metal about him.  
  
"You had nothing to do with it. He wanted me so he could lure Lilith..." Sands looked around. "We need to get you out of here. Now." He reached for her hand again and turned toward the east door, when Andre came in, bloodied sword in hand.  
  
"Sheldon, are you all right?" the Spaniard asked, as he ran across the large room, his footsteps echoing.  
  
"Peachy," Sands retorted. "We've got to get Victoria out of here. Viscalli is here."  
  
Victoria pulled back, "What do you mean I had nothing to do with it! " she turned her attentions to Andre. She wanted Sands to know how much she had helped in the rescuing of him. She wanted him to know how valuable she had been. "Tell him Andre," she pleaded with him to assist her.  
  
Sands looked at her, blinking as if confused. "I mean they weren't targeting you, they were after me. What did you think I meant?"  
  
Andre sighed dramatically. "We cannot argue about this here, you two."  
  
She narrowed her eyes at the both of them. "Fine." she said firmly. "You need a quick way out," she turned quickly to her right and headed for the heavy velvet curtains. Pushing them aside she revealed a small wooden door. "This is a servant's passage. It will take us quickly back down to the cellar and the tunnels." She was tired of being patronized, tired of being viewed as fragile, tired of it all.  
  
"Good," Andre said starting toward the door. He stopped and stood opposite Victoria as Sands followed a little more slowly. "Sands, I have to say, your choice of tailors leaves something to be desired."  
  
The expression on her face softened, truly looking at him for the first time. "Do you need help?" she asked.  
  
Sands shook his head. "My legs are fine, thank you." He stopped at the door. "After you."  
  
Andre tilted his head to one side then raised his eyes. Brandishing his sword, he went in first, stopped to check out the passageway, then continued on at a fast walk.  
  
She wanted to say something to him, but was unsure of her own words. Jacobs words echoed in her mind. "She secretly screwing him behind Abberline's back." She knew they were lies, just rumors Jacob had been repeating them just to anger her, but they gnawed at her. "You follow Andre , I'll lock this behind us." she whispered to Sands.  
  
"I can wait," he told her. Her gaze met his and she noticed that he blinked frequently.  
  
"What's wrong with your eyes?" she asked as she pulled the door shut behind them. The narrow passage way grew darker.  
  
"Nothing." He turned to look after Andre. "Come on."  
  
She knew he was hurting. Quickly she knelt down and slipped the bolt into place at the base of the door. Victoria stood and smiled as she slipped past him. "Andre!" she called out, "Andre take the second set of stairs on the left. They'll take us directly to the kitchens." Victoria looked back to see if Sands was all right, she was fearful about his condition.  
  
Just then she felt it again, an intense heat between her shoulder blades.  
  
(To Be Continued) 


	40. Getting out

Sands, Victoria and Andre – Day 4 part 13  
  
The secret passageway Victoria had found was narrow, dark, and smelled of wood rot. Sands mentally calculated how many bullets he had left and wondered what he would do when he ran out. He didn't let on to either of his companions, but the silver had a continuing effect upon him, draining and painful. He vaguely wondered how long it would take to recover. He'd read something about it once, but that was a few decades ago, or perhaps last century.  
  
Andre was in the lead, his light footsteps barely audible as he moved cautiously. Sands was aware of Victoria at his back. He wondered if he could pull the newly acquired trick here in this narrow stairwell if they were attacked.  
  
Victoria watched Andre and Sands closely. Soon they would be on the stairwell and out of danger. Jacob was gone, but she still felt strangely, as if someone were watching her every move. "Sands?" she questioned sadly, "How long before I can't feel him anymore?"  
  
The deeper darkness before her stopped and as he turned his head, she could just tell where the whiteness of his face was. "He's dead. What do you mean?"  
  
"I sense someone. I feel like I'm being watched." She turned her face upwards. "I've had this feeling since we first approached the old house. When I went off to find the tunnel entrance. I though it was just Jacob." The thought that it wasn't Jacob sent chills up her spine.  
  
She felt Sands' hand on hers. "Viscalli is here," he whispered. Victoria closed her hand around his. The full realization of what she had done was finally hitting her. "I went too far," her words trailed off.  
  
His hand grew stronger. "What do you mean?"  
  
Andre hissed at them.  
  
"Come on," Sands pulled her down, trying to catch up with Andre. They could hear a loud commotion now. Below, not far from them, a fight had broken out. There were metal clangs and shouts, then light spilled into the secret passageway just beyond Andre and a handful of Viscalli's vampires came running up the stairs towards them.  
  
Victoria pulled away from Sands her back hitting the wall opposite him. She aimed her weapon towards the on coming vampires. "We'll talk later," she yelled, "Andre needs us!"  
  
Andre engaged the first vampire in, who was using a long steel pipe as his weapon. Three more ran past the dueling pair, one aiming a gun up into the darkness. Sands threw himself flat against the wall and fired into the vampire's head, careful not to shoot when Andrew was directly behind the brute. The bullet took out half the vampire's head and its corps flopped onto the stairs, sending blood splattering everywhere.  
  
The two behind the dead vampire stopped, trapped between Andre's sword and invisible gunners above.  
  
"Nice shot." Victoria whispered, smiling in the darkness. Victoria fired, logging a bullet in the knee cap of the first vampire. He screamed and fell to the ground clutching his wound and cussing profusely.  
  
Sands held his fire until Andre had run his sword through the vampire he was fighting, then as Andre stepped back and against the wall, Sands fired at the remaining one they could still see, aiming for its head. The vampire had just turned to perhaps run back the way it came when Sands' bullet hit, killing him instantly.  
  
Sands let his weapon arm drop to his side, gritting his teeth against the pain lifting his arm had caused. More bodies filled up the space where the first four had been, but even in the dimness, Sands could see they were Guardians, and Andre was saying, "Hold your fire. Hold your fire."  
  
Victoria was thrilled to hear the familiar voices. Things would be all right now. She turned to Sands stepping closer to him. "I know you're hurting, is there anything I can do?" she whispered softly. Behind her the now familiar sound of Andre's sword finishing the vampire she had left with a bullet in his leg.  
  
Sands' dark brown gaze locked with hers. "How do you know?" His tone held suspicion and doubt.  
  
His reaction startled her. Her body tensed. "I have eyes, I can see."  
  
Sands' eyes continued to hold hers, then he looked away, apparently satisfied with her explanation as he muttered, "I didn't realize it was so obvious."  
  
Victoria relaxed and reached for his hand. "I think I've gotten to know you rather intimately. Do you want to lean on me?"  
  
He shook his head and continued toward Andre, keeping his gun focused on the dead vampires as if he expected one of them to reanimate. Something suddenly struck Victoria; she knew that Sands had an issue revolving around trust, yet he seemed to trust her almost from the start. He didn't trust half of his clan house, so why had he trusted her?  
  
The thought intrigued her and she smiled as she followed him down the hall gingerly stepping over the bodies of the fallen.  
  
Sands' hair was falling into his eyes, half-covering his face, but he made no move to push it aside as he stood next to Andre. "Did I say thank you yet?" Victoria heard him ask Andre.  
  
"No," Andre tilted his head, a smile appearing on his lips as he studied his friend. "I think I deserve a reward for this."  
  
Sands looked back at Victoria, a half-smile on his lips. "What did you have in mind?" he asked, turning back to Andre.  
  
"I shall have to consider it," Andre grinned, looking past Sands until his gaze locked with Victoria. "Victoria and I risked or butts, beautiful as they are, for you."  
  
Victoria lowered her face to hide the smile Andre's teasing had exposed. "Is it over?" she ask quietly. "Have we beaten them all?" She asked the question but already knew the answer in her heart. Jacob was gone and most of Viscalli's troops. But he was still alive, she felt him searching for her presence and she tried to shear up her walls of resistance to him.  
  
One of the Guardians answered her. "I think we've gotten them all. Sands, are you able to walk out on your own steam?"  
  
"Yeah, Cassidy," Sands told him. "My legs are working just fine." He held onto Victoria's hand again, dragging her into the light.  
  
They were in a kitchen, one not used much by the looks of things. A few more dead vampires and a dead human littered the floor.  
  
She squinted her eyes for a brief moment becoming accustomed to the light. She looked at his naked torso, slim and well muscled. Her eyes drawn to the charred marks on his flesh where the silver had pierced him. She let out a breath. Victoria remembered that feeling, the intense pain that silver brought. It could bring you quickly to your knees and have you begging for death. She watched Sands as he spoke to the tall Guardian, he was amazing.  
  
"Where's the way out?" Sands asked. He looked into Victoria's eyes, the hint of a grin on his lips.  
  
She smiled back at him. "This way." She stepped forward and this time lead him. She crossed the blue and white titles of the kitchen floor and headed for the stairs down to the cellar, and then suddenly stopped. "Wait." She turned. "If we have control of the house and grounds we can use the front doors." She looked around Sands to Cassidy the Guardian to whom they had just been speaking. He nodded. Victoria smiled as the Guardian radioed for the vehicles to be brought up to the front of the house.  
  
"This way then." She smiled again and turned in the opposite direction. As she came closer to Andre she paused, "Come along Andre," her voice reflected her pleasure with what they had accomplished.  
  
The two men followed Victoria as she left the kitchen, guided them through a small dining area, and out a side door into what once must have been a herb garden. She looked about, dismayed by the neglected little garden.  
  
Victoria slowed her footsteps, her eyes saddened. She remembered how carefully she had tended to the little plants. She paused as she brushed her fingertips across a wilted lavender bush. The cherub fountain in the center of the path was partial broken and the water was only a trickle now.  
  
"We need to get out of here," Sands said in a warm velvety voice, his lips against her ear. She turned to see him, his face right next to hers.  
  
"The danger is gone," she reminded him.  
  
"The pain of your memories are not," he replied.  
  
She smiled, and touched his cheek. His concern for her even when he himself was in so much pain moved her. She nodded and continued on. They came to a set of French doors which were partially ajar. Opening them the group entered the grand receiving hall. The once polished mahogany now faded with age, the doors to the front of the manor now lay directly ahead of them.  
  
"Something is wrong," Andre's voice sounded from behind them. Victoria and Sands stopped and as one, turned to face him.  
  
"It's too easy. I think, perhaps..." Andre's words trailed off.  
  
"A trap?" Sands suggested.  
  
Andre nodded. "We need the boys with the electronic toys to scan this room."  
  
Victoria turned where she stood. Eyes scanning the double staircases, windows the doors on the balconies above. Everything seemed quiet, still. She turned her green eyes to Andre and then Sands. Still nothing . Then she shut them entirely and searched with her mind. She let her thoughts drift, travel to the upper floors, looking for anyone that presented a threat. She had even stopped breathing as she searched.  
  
There was something. She could feel it. Some danger lay here. Her eyes flew open as Andre shouted "Quinn! We need some scanning."  
  
There was the sound of approaching footsteps, and Quinn himself appeared, electronic equipment in both hands.  
  
"Something's wrong here," Andre shrugged as Quinn pinned him with an inquiring stare.  
  
"I feel it, too," Sands agreed.  
  
"And I," Victoria added softly. Now that she'd located the sensation, she felt a sense of creepiness, the same sensation she felt when she read about some young kid belting dynamite to himself and going into Jerusalem to blow himself and several innocent people up with him.  
  
Victoria watched as Quinn pulled out his scanning devices and slowly made a sweep of the floor and walls. Victoria glanced around the entry way carefully as Quinn made his rounds. What was out of place? Then she saw it. Just barely visible above the doorway. Her eyes shot to the windows that flanked the entrance, sunlight gently flooded in through the dust, but it was there to! "Sands," her grip tighten, "the doors and windows are wired!"  
  
All four stepped backwards, even Quinn, who followed Victoria's lead and aimed his devices at the area above the door. "How sweet," he muttered. "That guy is a real jewel." He looked at the other three. "I suggest you go out another way, or wait until we get this deactivated.  
  
The group stepped back through the French doors. Victoria looked to Sands to see what he wanted to do. In a house this big, there were always many way in and out, but now she worried about how many held special surprises.  
  
"How did you get in?" he asked Victoria and Andre.  
  
"This way," she smiled and crooked a finger.  
  
The trio went back into the building, down the hall, and eventually they were passing the area where Sands had last seen Abberline. He looked around as they passed, wondering where the clan leader had disappeared to.  
  
Down steps, over many dead bodies, and they came into the cellar area, past more dead vampires, and through the secret door. This lead eventually to the tunnel entrance where the two thralls stood still waiting for them, as they had been instructed.  
  
Jackson and Klein seemed genuinely pleased that their masters had returned. "Welcome back Miss. Dupre," Jackson purred. Andre leaned closer to Sands. "Watch that one," he warned.  
  
Sands frowned, his nose scrunching up as if he smelled something bad, then he walked away, following the footsteps the group had left when they descended upon the tunnel less than an hour earlier.  
  
Victoria nodded pleasantly to Jackson and opened her mind to him. "Jackson, you should take your cues from Klein."  
  
His blue eyes sparkled. "Why? Doesn't my attentive nature please you?" he answered silently.  
  
Distracted by his question she did not notice Andre whispering to Sands. She shut her mind to Jackson, bothered by his forward demeanor. She frowned and Jackson lowered his gaze as Sand brushed past him, he pulled on Victoria's hand.  
  
Sands headed out through the tunnel. His thrall quickly caught up. "Sir, let me make sure the way is still clear." Sands nodded and then turned his face back toward Victoria. The light from the cellar outlined her figure. "How long before we reach the end?" he questioned.  
  
"It's a full mile, maybe a mile and a half."   
  
He sighed, expressing his fatigue. "Let's get out of here."  
  
Andre walked up beside his friend and put a friendly arm around him, steering him toward the tunnel exit. He faced Sands as they began to walk, speaking in soft low tones. Victoria studied them for a moment as she started after them more slowly. It didn't take her long to realize Andre was worried about Sands and his arm was there to prevent Sands from stumbling.  
  
Biting her lip, she moved up to Sands' other side and slid her arm around his slim hips, her eyes looking past him to Andre. "We're the three amigos, aren't we?" she asked cheerfully.  
  
"Oh, so you speak Spanish?" Andre asked casually. "Where did you learn that?"  
  
As the two spoke lightly, Sands walked with his head down, his hair falling forward hiding his features from them. Victoria wondered if he knew what she and Andre were doing.  
  
"What?" Victoria asked Andre. She had missed what he said.  
  
"I was asking where you learned to speak Spanish," he responded. "Your accent sounds distinctly Spanish, not South American or Cuban."  
  
She smiled. "I spent a little time in Madrid." Victoria reached up to brush some loose strands of hair from her eyes. "Jacob kept me moving from place to place, and I did so like Spain. So I lived in Madrid , Valencia, Barcelona. Your country is very beautiful."  
  
"We met in Spain," Sands said softly.  
  
"Yes," Andre agreed. "We should have been enemies, and I should have hated you, my brother. But you were so very charming. And you did arrange for me to kill someone who definitely deserved to die."  
  
"I remember." Sands turned his head to glance at Andre. "A less kind person would have said I manipulated them."  
  
Andre's full lips quirked up into a smile. "If I remember correctly, I did say something like that at the time. But, you did me a favor. I did you a favor. It all turned out splendidly." His dark eyes flashed to Victoria. "And, Victoria, you love Spain, as well. Perhaps the three of us should go there."  
  
She looked into Andre's eyes, they were dark and warm. Then her gaze drifted to Sands. "Perhaps when we are feeling better."  
  
"If you're referring to me," Sands spoke up, turning to smile in her direction, "I'm actually feeling just fine. Except where the silver was. The rest of me is peachy." He gave her a mysterious smile, before hiding his face beneath his falling hair again.  
  
Victoria once again smiled, a great weight was lifted from her. "Then again, " she paused and smirked playfully shaking her head for Andre's amusement, "there are many places I would like to go now than I am no longer being hunted."  
  
"Such as?" Andre asked.  
  
She squeezed Sands gently, and looked towards Andre have you ever been to New Orleans?"  
  
Sands turned his head toward her, throwing his hair out of his eyes. "There's no reason you can't go anywhere your heart desires now. You know that, right?" His tongue darted out and wet his lips before he added. "I'd kill anyone who tried to control you. So would Andre. Right, Andre?"  
  
"Right." Andre nodded solemnly. A surge of happiness filled her. "Wonderful, then you shall take us to Spain, I shall take us to see my home", and then she turned her green eyes onto Sands. "Where will you take us sugar? Her accents heavily coating her words.  
  
"I shall take you to England, of course." Sands suddenly spoke with an aristocratic British accent.  
  
"He's a Brit," Andre said, as if explaining things to Victoria. "Tea lover."  
  
"Greatest lovers in the world," Sands threw in.  
  
"I would like that very much," she said quietly. "And I would like you to take me dancing again," she added with a smile in her voice as she spoke.  
  
As they neared the end of the tunnel, the party fell silent, as if some unknown danger lay ahead in the faint afternoon glow.  
  
"Send Klein and Jackson out first," Sands said softly to Andre. "I don't trust Viscalli. Only one booby trap... Not his style."  
  
Andre nodded to the thralls who quickly exited the tunnel into the forest. Victoria closed her eyes and opened her mind, searching for his now familiar presences. Viscalli was still around, but where he was, she could not be sure.  
  
"Where are the vehicles?" Sands asked, leaning back against the wall of the tunnel. "Anyone have a cigarette?"  
  
Victoria looked to Andre. That was a very good question. She really had not been pay attention earlier when they arrived.  
  
"I still do not smoke," Andre said in a scolding voice. "The cars are down around this area of the wood, out of site of the house." He gestured out the tunnel entrance.  
  
"Oh, well that explains everything," Sands said sarcastically.  
  
"Sands!" Victoria chided. "Be nice." The trio stepped to the edge of the tunnel, they could see the thralls scanning the edge of the treeline. "Is everything alright?" she called to Jackson.  
  
Andre frowned, ducked down. Simultaneously, Sands pulled Victoria down with him to the tunnel's floor as gunfire erupted from within the trees.  
  
"What's going on?!" Victoria shouted as she reached for her weapon. "More Viscalli! Haven't we killed enough of them for one day?"  
  
"You two stay put," Andre said, rising to a half-crouch and darting out of the cave.  
  
"Like that's going to happen," Sands muttered, flicking the safety on his gun off.  
  
Victoria held on to Sands tightly. "Please, your hurt. I'll go."  
  
"Hurt never stopped me before." He smiled wickedly, leaned over to kiss her quickly on the lips, then got to his feet and dashed out after Andre. 


	41. The final shot

Sands, Victoria and Andrew Day 4 part 14  
  
For a moment Victoria sat motionless on the floor of the tunnel unable to speak. The sound of gunfire exploded around them.  
  
Sands dashed out of the tunnel and to the right. He sensed something coming at him from in front. He aimed. It took a fraction of a second to recognize Klein. Sands held his shot. There was the sound of Andre's sword clanging against something metallic further into the woods. His gun held in two not-too-steady hands, Sands zigzagged towards the tree line.  
  
Victoria listened carefully and could make out the sounds of Andre's sword and the shouting of the thralls. She felt the need to follow them into the fray. Sands and Andre meant so much to her now that she could not bear to let anything happen to either of them. She may not be an expert with her weapon, but she would do the best she could.  
  
Victoria stood and took the safety off her weapon. The hull of the tank would provide some cover where she could plan her next move. She darted out of the tunnel and was immediately surrounded with gunfire. As she pressed her back against the rusted and abandoned tank the ping of the bullets against the metal engulfed her. She froze.  
  
She sensed more than saw Sands forward and to the right. Just beyond him, Klein was hunkered down behind a tree log, firing at a target she could not see. She could only hear Andre, and had no idea where Jackson had disappeared to after he left the tunnel.  
  
She dared a peek over the edge of the rusting tank to see Sands come out from behind a tree. He held a gun in both hands and fired it twice, then she heard the sound of the hammer hitting and no more bullets exploded from the muzzle. He was out of ammunition. "Fucker," Sands said loud enough for her to hear him clearly. He dove for the log and Klein, rolling the last few feet.  
  
Bullets struck the dirt as he rolled. Victoria followed the firing path and located the gunman. Acting quickly, she took aim over the top of the tank and fired off a few shots until she heard the hammer click on her own weapon. Quickly she slid down and pop the cartage and reached for her ammunition belt to reload. Had she hit her target?  
  
"You're hit," she heard Sands say in a low voice to Klein.  
  
"Not too bad," Klein said in a firm tone. "Here, sir."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Victoria peeked around. The bullets had stopped flying. She saw Sands with a different gun now. Apparently, Klein have given him one. He was kneeling, looking over the log he and Klein sheltered behind. "Andre," he called.  
  
"I'm here," Andre's voice came from deeper in the woods. "There's still one out there with a gun."  
  
Victoria listened to their voices, relived when she heard each of them speak. But where was Jackson? She finished popping the clip into place and called out "Where's Jackson?"  
  
"Here," Jackson's voice came from the left side of the tunnel. "He got my leg. I can't move."  
  
"Can you shoot?" Sands asked.  
  
"My hands are just fine," Jackson replied. "I just don't have a target."  
  
"Perhaps we can find you one," Sands said. "Andre, just one?"  
  
"That's all I saw." Andre replied.  
  
"Was he human or vampire?" Victoria questioned.  
  
"Human," Andre called back. "None of the vampires we've seen could survive outside in daylight. Too young."  
  
Good, she thought. He will be easier to kill. Victoria opened her mind to everything. A rush of thoughts and emotions flooded in: Jackson's pain, Klein's fear, images of the Guardians; they had heard the gun fire and were on the way.  
  
"The Guardians are on the way!" she called out quickly. She turned her focus back to the shooter. Where was he? She pick up on his thoughts. He was behind the trees to her left, crouched down in the shrubbery. The man was terrified; thinking of his family, knowing he would not escape.  
  
"You okay, buddy?" Sands was saying to Klein when she refocused on the area just beyond the shell of the rusting tank.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
She looked around and saw Sands was tying something around Klein's injured arm.  
  
"Yeah, sure," Sands said softly. "Just stay here. You've lost a lot of blood and you're not one of us...yet."  
  
Victoria didn't know what to do. Jackson was closest to the shooter, but unable to move and she was hesitant to call out to her companions.  
  
"Victoria," Sands called her name. "Can you see him?"  
  
"No," she replied, "But I know where he is."  
  
There was a moment's silence. "What?" Sands asked. "Can you get to Jackson?"  
  
"I think so." Victoria turned and looked to her left. There was Jackson, back against a tree, blood spilling from his wound. Victoria looked past him to the trees beyond.  
  
Sands was suddenly at her side. "Okay, darling, where is the shooter?" His mouth was right against her ear, his breath brushing against her hair.  
  
Victoria pointed with her gun. "Look past Jackson to the tree line." She turned her lips towards him, "Now look down and to the left, to the large pile of Dogwood. I know you cannot see him, but he is there. I read his thoughts."  
  
His eyes locked with hers. She could see the excitement he got from the hunt and the curiosity from her words. "I shall go kill him," he announced before quickly claiming her mouth with a kiss.  
  
He excited her. Everything about him excited her, his voice, his scent, the taste of him on her lips. "I'll cover you," she whispered as there lips parted.  
  
"I'll hold you to that promise," he said, his voice husky. He grinned wickedly and dashed off towards Jackson's position.  
  
Victoria watched him, at full speed he became a blur. She aimed her weapon and fired way over his head, providing cover fire.  
  
She saw him go past Jackson, slowing only briefly behind a thick pine before he moved further away and out of sight. She followed his path, worried, but somehow knowing that he would be alright. Victoria stopped at Jackson's side and crouched down next to him. "Oh, Samuel." she exclaimed. "You're badly hurt."  
  
Blood poured from the wound in his leg and he was loosing color fast. "No Kelvar, " he joked with a fragile smile. Victoria holstered her weapon and reached for the leg of his pants. She ripped the material in two.  
  
With her superior strength, she tore the material into thick strips and bound his leg. Her concentration was shattered by the sound of a single bullet.  
  
"Got him," Sands called out from way into the woods.  
  
"Careful," Andre warned. He had come closer to her and Jackson. She looked up to see him half-way between them and Klein, his sword still in his hand.  
  
"I need help," Victoria called. "Jackson's wound is very bad."  
  
His eyes scanning the forest before them, Andre moved carefully, until he came to stand over them. "Tie it as a tourniquet," he instructed her. "Sands, any more?"  
  
"I don't think so," Sands called, just as the sound of many running feet invaded Victoria's hearing. She grabbed her gun and stood, her back to Andre. They saw the familiar black of the Guardians as a handful of them jogged into the little clearing.  
  
Victoria lowered her weapon with a sigh of relief. The group fanned out around them and took up the search. The tall Guardian with the dark red hair pulled back into a ponytail at the base of his neck stepped forward. "Where's Sands? " he questioned.  
  
"I'm here," Sands said from a few feet away as he sauntered over to Victoria and the others. "Thanks for the rescue."  
  
The red-head tilted his head to one side. "It seems you were rescued before we got to you. How did you manage that?"  
  
"Professional secret," Sands smiled broadly, then in an almost Texan drawl added, "Ex-CIA, you know, pal?"  
  
Victoria grinned and then wrapped her arms around him. Jackson groaned. "Oh, Jackson!" she exclaimed. "Your leg." Victoria quickly dropped down to his side and resumed tearing the stripes of cloth into a tourniquet. "This should slow the bleeding a little."  
  
"We damaged your thralls," Sands said to the Guardians gathering around them. "Sorry." He looked over at Klein and Victoria followed his line of sight. The shorter of the two thralls was standing with the help of two more Guardians.  
  
"We'll take it from here," the red headed Guardian replied. He motioned for two others to come forward and take charge of Jackson. Victoria turned and looked back to Jackson once more. "You'll be all right." she said, the tone of her voice almost a question. 


	42. Rescued and ready to fly

Day 4 Part 15 The problem with silver, Sands thought angrily, was that it reminded him too much of what it felt like to be human. When he was still human, he healed at the agonizingly slow rate of a human. He felt the painful effects of an injury for hours, days, weeks, even months. Silver brought it all back, for it was the one injury that a vampire could not quickly recover from, despite his age. In fact, it seemed that the older vampires suffered even more than the younger ones from its effects.  
  
Lilith had told him once that the vampire's hatred of silver had lead to the inaccurate myths of them hating mirrors, since before glass the best mirrors had been of polished silver.  
  
Now, as he stood beside MacGreggor, listening to his retelling of the events leading up to his capture, Sands resented the weakening pain that lanced through him. The adrenaline of the hunt had worn off, leaving no barriers between him and its constant reminder of his vulnerability. It set his teeth on edge and made him want to lash out at something or someone, but all the enemies had been killed or, as in the case of Viscalli, slipped away.  
  
Something Quinn said snapped Sands' attention back to the conversation. "Did you say and old Chinese man?" he asked.  
  
"Yes. Old by human standards anyway," Quinn responded, tilting his head to one side as he studied Sands.  
  
"Is he still alive?" Sands asked hopefully. He would love to kill that bastard for torturing him, even if he was just a fucking thrall doing Viscalli's bidding.  
  
"No. He's dead, like all the other trash they left behind," Quinn said evenly. "But not by our hands. He just seemed to have keeled over when he saw Debbie."  
  
"Not one of your fiercest members," Andre laughed.  
  
Quinn shrugged. "It was enough to cause the old guy's heart to stop."  
  
"Pity," Sands said softly.  
  
"Why?" Victoria asked, her hands still holding his.  
  
"Because I would have enjoyed ripping his head off," Sands explained, his voice calm and cold, his gaze not meeting hers. "That fuckwad stuck the silver in me."  
  
"Oh, I see," she said thoughtfully. "You need to get cleaned up."  
  
"Yes, and some decent clothes," Andre added. "We have our vehicles down on the road. Care to walk, or should we drive one up here to you?"  
  
Before Sands could give a scathingly witty reply, Lilith came to him. Not visually, but he could sense her presence. Shutting his open mouth, Sands turned his head, scanning for her. She came slowly, like a queen descending from her dais, dressed in the same black as the Guardians, her long blond hair done up. She was still as stunning as ever and, Sands realized, some of that was due to the aura of power she eminated.  
  
"My dear Sands," she said her eyes going from his, to Victoria's, then back to lock with his. "You do seem to draw adventures to yourself."  
  
He raised a brow. "This one was not one I would have choosen."  
  
"It seems Viscalli took an interest in you," Lilith told him. "We have surmised, and Victoria has helped to confirm, that you were to be part one of the bait."  
  
"I figured as much," Sands told her, feeling his wounds all too strongly.  
  
"But, you are injured," Lilith said, even though he'd kept his facial features rigidly fixed so as not to give away his pain. She always seemed to know how he was feeling. It was uncanny and he had given up wondering just how she did it and chalked it up to her woman's intuition.  
  
"It will heal," he assured her. That was interesting. She and Victoria were staring at one another, as if sharing some womanly secret.  
  
"Come on, then," Andre gestured with his left arm. "Let us get you to the transportation, and to the plane, where you can clean up and change into something a little more fashionable. I brought shampoo, too. You could use it."  
  
"Always the critique," Sands mumbled, though his lips curled up in a smile.  
  
"Yes, let me help," Victoria said, turning to face him fully. "I'm sure you'll need your back scrubbed. The plane has a shower."  
  
Interesting images flittered through his imagination. "Lead on, stalwart friend," he said to Andre.  
  
As he passed by Lilith, she stopped him with a light touch. He looked into her crystal blue eyes. "Sands, there's something...different about you," she said slowly.  
  
"Yes, there is." He smiled, waiting for her to dismiss him. She studied him for another long moment, then inclined her head.  
  
The ride to the airport seemed to take a very long time. Sands leaned against Victoria, inhaling her sweet scent, his eyes only half-open as he thought about everything that had happened. It seemed too easy. Why hadn't Viscalli anticipated what they would do. But he had. He had thought they would mount a rescue, that he would be able to capture Lilith and use her to lure Abberline. What he hadn't counted upon was Abberline's ability to slip past all his sentries, electronic and vampire, and to rescue Sands himself.  
  
"I saw him die, but I almost can't believe it," Victoria said almost wistfully.  
  
"Believe it," Sands told her. "He's gone and you are truly free now." His hand lay over hers and he entwined his fingers with hers.  
  
"Free," she repeated.  
  
"We are free of Viscalli for a while, too, I imagine," Sands added. "He does tend to stay on the continent, so you shouldn't have to..." His mind suddenly went back to what she had said to him earlier when they were narrowing in on the final shooter in the woods. "Did you tell me you can read minds, my sweet Louisiana blossom?" He pulled away and looked into her eyes. It appeared he wasn't the only one who had secrets.  
  
As Sands spoke, Victoria only half heartedly listened, at the mention of Viscalli her mind wandered. He would come after them again, and soon. Victoria thought she had picked up the fragments of that intention in him before he had blocked her. She shut her eyes, feeling exhausted from it all. It was difficult to block people from her mind. Lilith had been prying, clawing at her from the last hour and Viscalli; well with his age and skill she was amazed that she could block him at all.  
  
Sands pulled back and looked deeply into her eyes, this brought her out of her own thoughts but only long enough to catch the last few words. "...sweet Louisiana blossom?"  
  
Victoria straighten and smiled, "Hmm, what did you say?" Victoria shot a quick glance to Andre who appeared to straighten up in anticipation.  
  
Sands hesitantly asked the question once again. "Did you say you could read minds?" Victoria bit her bottom lip. Sands gaze dropped and watched closely as Victoria's teeth nervously bit into her lower lip. She could sense the wheels in his mind spinning and she wasn't sure the path it was taking. Nervously she answered. "Yes."  
  
His lips pursed in thought. "How well can you read minds?"  
  
Her eyebrows knotted. "Well enough." Her hands shot out and grasped his own. "But I haven't tried to read you, and I won't either."  
  
"Why?" His voice was flat, his dark eyes boring into hers.  
  
Victoria swallowed, she could feel his eyes cutting into her. "I wasn't invited."  
  
He continued to stare into her eyes for several long moments, then he inclined his head. "I suspect if you had, you would have run away by now," he said. She wasn't sure if he was joking or not. There was something self-mocking in his words and he turned his eyes away, sighing. "It's been a long day," he said lightly.  
  
"Sands?" she asked softly leaning in a little closer to him. "Are you worried about my abilities?"  
  
"No, not your abilities, my privacy." His eyes closed, effectively blocking her out. She stared at his long lashes in thought. Was he closing her off, or was he simply tired?  
  
Victoria turned to Andre her eyes filling with tears. The other vampire fixed her with a curious look. She wondered if he, too, suspected her of prying. What could she say or do to show them she had not invaded their minds? Her mind raced, she should have never let any of them know what she could do.  
  
Victoria turned once more to Sands, she began to slide her hands away from his. "I would never invade your privacy. Your life is your life, it's none of my business." She felt her heart breaking and hated herself for it. "Yes," he said simply. One eye opened and cast her a sideways glance. "You are too transparent, love. I don't need to read minds to know you are telling me the truth. That, or you're the worlds greatest actress." He put his hand back over hers.  
  
Victoria felt like she'd stopped breathing. She looked at him intently with her large green eyes, but didn't feel any better. She let her body drop against the seat and her head rested against the window. Had she ruined everything?  
  
"What?" he prompted. "You don't like being transparent?" His hand gently squeezed hers.  
  
Victoria's eyes shifted to Sands and she sighed with a slight shrug of her shoulders. "It's dangerous." She lifted her head from the glass. "Rest," she gently nudged his hand. "Don't worry about me and my wounded pride. I need you in tip top condition."  
  
A smile spread across his full lips. "For our shower?" he asked suggestively.  
  
"And other things." She tried to sound less injured.  
  
"Oh," he breathed, leaning toward her ear. "That sounds interesting."  
  
"It will be," she tussled his hair and leaned into his lips. "Now rest, the airport is quite far away!" Although her words were dismissive that was not what she was feeling. The proximity of his lips to her ear was sending chills throughout her body.  
  
"Promise?" he asked, his warm velvet voice matching the glittering interest she saw in his eyes.  
  
"You're injured, remember?" she chided.  
  
He raised one shoulder. "I can forget if you help me."  
  
"Will it help?" she asked at the excitement within her grew.  
  
"Most definitely." He let his head rest back against the seat. "So would a massage. With hot oil. I think I'm turning myself on here." But now his voice was fading, and his eyes once again closing, but this time, she sensed, in fatigue.  
  
"Good night my sweet prince, she whispered, as she lightly kissed his cheek. Victoria turned to look back out the window to see how far they were from the airport, when she became caught in Andre's rakish gaze. She felt the flush rise in her cheeks as she began to realize that he had witnessed a very private moment.  
  
"I shall always be the bridesmaid," he whispered to her with a grin pulling at his lips.  
  
Victoria reached for his hand across the seat. He had the good grace to let what he had witness pass and not judge her for her foolishness. "Oh Andre, I think I love you."  
  
His smile turned into a wistful grin. "Some day you and I shall have a nice long talk," he urged. "Alone. Away from the maddening crowd."  
  
"Over cappuccinos?" she teased and returned his present grin.  
  
He nodded, then turned back around, leaving her to her own thoughts.  
  
As she started out the window of the SUV, things began to blur and she realized how tired she actually was, and hungry. She had not used the mind gift so much at once before today and found that it was increasingly difficult to concentrate. She felt herself slipping away, as her eyelids grew heavy.  
  
She stood upon a field of battle. Before her, everything was grey, covered in fog and smoke. She knew there were dead bodies lying on the earth, but she could see only the grey. Danger also lurked somewhere in the bone- chilling fog. She hadn't felt that coldness since she had been human. What had happened? Who had they fought? Who had won?  
  
She wanted to search the battlefield, perhaps find someone she knew there, but fear held her back, fear and a sense of dread.  
  
"Here we are." Quinn's voice from the front seat woke Victoria. She blinked open her eyes and looked around. Sands groggily sat beside her, yawning and not bothering to cover his mouth.  
  
Victoria blinked and felt as if she were still partially in her fearful dream. Her head ached as if someone were knocking her about. She stretched gracefully as Andre opened the door for her. She stepped out and looked around the small airfield, they were already on the tarmac and the engines were running. Her eyes scanned the area for danger and watched as the other vehicles stopped and unloaded their passengers.  
  
Victoria turned towards Sands. "Ready for that shower, or would you rather wait until we are alone?" she questioned him playful but her eyes focused on something behind him.  
  
Sands turned to look and saw Lilith gracefully coming forward. He turned and looked at Victoria and she knew he saw an intense stare pass between herself and Lilith.  
  
Victoria turned her attention back to Sands, smiled, and linked her arm through his. "Come, sugarbutt," she said in a southern drawl, "Let me take care of you."  
  
"Now you're talkin'," he replied.  
  
Arm and arm they boarded the waiting jet. 


	43. From the Airport to home

Night 4 part 2  
  
Without any warning, Sands pulled the SUV over to the side of the road and let his hands fall to his sides, his head down.  
  
Victoria sat quietly for a moment, not sure what to make of the situation. "Sands?" she questioned as she slid across the seat. "Is everything alright?" She reached to brush the tangled hair from his eyes. His forehead was resting against the steering wheel, which was beginning to leave a large red welt.  
  
"You drive," he said, his voice muffled. He turned his head and looked at her, the hair veiling most of his features. "This crappy silver..." He sighed.  
  
Victoria smoothed her hand across the back of his head. Worry crept into the back of her mind. "No problem."  
  
He straightened and slid over into her seat, reaching to pull her hips onto his as they traded places and their legs tangled for a moment before she slipped in behind the wheel. "Put on your seat belt," she told him. "We don't need the highway patrol pulling us over because you're not wearing one."  
  
"Yes, mother," he said, moving slowly as he reached to pull it across his slim hips. "Doesn't feel very good without a shirt," he mumbled.  
  
Victoria followed suit, belting herself in before she put both hands on the wheel. The seat was in a good position for her, so she checked the mirrors, put the vehicle into drive, and drove back onto the tarmac and suddenly stopped the vehicle.  
  
Sands eyes popped open. "What are you doing?" he asked. She held her hand out in a hushing motion as she unbelted herself. Victoria reached under her coat and began squirming around behind the wheel. "Hold this." she asked as she produced her shoulder holster and weapon. Sands had a skeptical look in his eyes. "The seat belt rubs it in a funny way." She shrugged her shoulders and smiled in a most charming way.  
  
He looked at her puzzled, then put the holster down on the storage compartment between the two seats. "Go. Go." He waved a hand. "You know, I need a shower so bad."  
  
Victoria smirked and put the car into drive. Soon they were on the interstate. Traffic was surprisingly light, considering the time of day. "Your place, right?" she asked glancing over at the body hunched against the window.  
  
"That's where my clothes are. Unfortunately." He squirmed in the seat, putting his hand under the shoulder strap of the seat belt. "You know what they say: Life's a bitch, then you don't die." He smiled at her with a wide silly grin.  
  
She laughed. "What's that supposed to mean?" hearing his voice made her feel better about his condition.  
  
He tilted his head sideways. "Where have you been, girl? The humans say, 'Life's a bitch and then you die.' Well, we don't, do we?"  
  
Victoria's attention was drawn back to the road . "No I guess we don't, do we?" At that moment many thoughts ran through her head. Thoughts of the many people she had known, whom she had long out lived. Thoughts of the many times she was hurt so bad, physically and mentally, that she just wanted to end it all. Maybe humans were luckier than they were in that way.  
  
"Oh," he groaned. "The lovely sound of the wipers is not music enough for me." He reached for the radio. "Let's find something easy."  
  
She heard the radio go from station to station until he landed on an old Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young song from the sixties. "That's good," he said contentedly, sitting back and letting his head lean against the head rest. "I liked the sixties."  
  
She smiled. "We'll be home soon." Victoria started to edge the vehicle over to the side of the expressway. "I missed most of the sixties," she said quietly. The music was nice and easy. The simple melody filled the air and she found her fingers tapping out the rhythm against the steering wheel.  
  
Despite the flurries of snow, the city's skyline glowed around and above them as they exited the expressway and she drove south toward Sands' apartment.  
  
"Shit."  
  
"What?" she asked.  
  
"I don't have the parking key for the garage." He shifted in his seat. "Is there a phone in here?" He began to rifle through the glove compartment. In a moment, a cell phone appeared in his hand and he punched in a number. She could easily hear both sides of the conversation as he spoke. "Hi, Al, it's Sands."  
  
"Good evening, Mr. Sands."  
  
"I'm coming in with a friend and without my key card. Can you watch for a black Hummer and let us in when we arrive?"  
  
"No problem, Mr. Sands."  
  
"Great. Our ETA is about ten minutes," Sands told him. "I'll see you then."  
  
"You got it, Mr. Sands."  
  
Sands ended the call and threw the phone back in the glove compartment.  
  
Victoria noticed the stiffness of his movements. "You'll feel a lot better once you're clean and in your own bed." She smiled and looked to see if he was looking at her. " Then I can rub your sore muscles with that hot oil you were talking about."  
  
His response was to raise a dark brow in her direction and make a purring noise that struck her at once as sexual and suggestive. She smiled, turning onto another snow-covered street.  
  
"You're amazing." she stated.  
  
He held his hand toward her, palm up, and moved the fingers to suggest she continue with the praise.  
  
She laughed. It felt good to laugh. "No really, you are." She shifted her eyes between the road and the man at her right. "I know how much the silver hurts, and yet you never stopped fighting, or worrying about me. You just keep going on, it's like you're unstoppable."  
  
"I eat energizer bunnies for breakfast," he told her with a grin. Yet she could see he was fatigued.  
  
"Oh, do you now?"  
  
"Yep." He looked out the windows. "We're almost there."  
  
She nodded, making the turn onto his street. "Is Al a thrall?" she asked out of the blue.  
  
"No. I have none. Don't like 'em." He looked at her. "You can control them without making them thralls, you know."  
  
A sly grin appeared. "I know. But I thought that was just a womanly thing." She slowed the car as Sands' building came into view. "Do I go around to the back?" she asked.  
  
"Yes, into the alley." He pointed. "What do you mean a womanly thing? Are you saying I'm feminine?" He tossed his hair back provocatively as he turned to look at her.  
  
Victoria laughed. "You...poop," she said.  
  
"If that's the best you can come up with."  
  
"Shithead."  
  
"Much better. I know you're just jealous." He smiled at her.  
  
Victoria shook her head. "You know, you're a real nutcase."  
  
As expected, Al was waited at the front gate of the parking garage. He smiled and waved as the black Hummer slowed its approach. "Honey we're home," she sang out happily.  
  
"Good." He sounded sincere.  
  
They parked behind his car. Al came over as they got out of the car.  
  
"You look like you've had quite an adventure," Al said to him. "Is there anything I can do, Mr. Sands?" Al's glance darted to Victoria and he nodded his greeting to her.  
  
Victoria regarded him with an air of suspicion. She was always uncomfortable in the presence of humans. "No thank you," she interjected. "Nothing a hot shower and a good stiff drink won't cure." She walked around towards Sands, wrapped her arms around his torso and kissed his lips.  
  
"Right you are," he said to her. He turned his face towards Al. "Thanks, man." He held out his hand and shook the man's.  
  
"You're welcome, Mr. Sands." Al walked ahead of them and pushed the button for the elevator. The doors slid open as the bell rang softly and with her arm still around Sands, Victoria and he walked onto the elevator and Al joined them. "I have the key," he told them, putting it into the slot for the penthouse, then stepping out before the doors closed.  
  
They rode up in silence.  
  
"He's okay," Sands said, perhaps sensing her insecurity around the human. "I've known him for years."  
  
"Does he know about you?" she asked, as the elevator silently whisked they to the top floor.  
  
"Hell no!" he retorted. "I'm not totally nuts."  
  
"Sometimes you are," she teased and gently squeezed him around the middle. "I can wait to get out of these clothes." She twisted uncomfortably. "Especially this body armor Jackson made me wear," she sighed.  
  
"It's the smart thing," he told her, leaning towards her. "Maybe we heal from bullets pretty quickly, but they hurt like hell."  
  
The elevator rang softly again as it came to a stop and the doors swished open. "Here we are." He moved eagerly out and to the touch-pad key board. His fingerprints opened the door. He gestured her in ahead of him, then followed her inside, closing and locking the door behind them.  
  
"Home sweet home," Victoria said, as she stepped into the apartment, slipping the black jacket from her shoulders and dropping it on the back of the couch. She smiled and flushed when she saw the couch. She started fiddling with the buckles on the Kevlar vest. "How do you get out of this thing?" she asked looking up at Sands who was now leaning with his back against the front door. Victoria took a few steps forward and arched her eyebrows. "After all, the sooner I'm out of this, the sooner you'll be into a hot shower and a thorough rub down."  
  
He nodded, reaching to help her find the Velcro tabs that held the vest. His lips quirked up in a smile. "Pretty complicated, eh?" Before she could answer, he leaned forward and kissed her lips in a light kiss. "You know what?"  
  
"What?" she asked, smiling back, expecting him to suggest something sexual."  
  
"I'm going to call for pizza." He let her go and moved toward the phone.  
  
Puzzled she turned as she unfastened the last tabs on the vest. "Pizza! You want pizza? Now?" She yanked the vest off over her head and dropped it on top of the black jacket following him to the phone and pulling loose her hair from the pony tail it had been in. She ran her fingers across her scalp tilting her head to the side.  
  
"Heck no," he told her. "I want the pizza boy." He picked up the receiver and dialed in a number.  
  
She rolled her eyes as he ordered a pizza. Making her way across the spacious living room, she looked at the dark windows and the snow falling outside. She could hear him confirming his order, then he hung up.  
  
"Forty minutes," he said. "If we're lucky. It helps that they're just around the corner."  
  
She put her hands on her hips. "Won't they get suspicious when their pizza delivery men keep disappearing after delivering here?"  
  
"I don't kill them!" His eyes opened wide that the thought. "I don't need much, you know."  
  
He saw the question in her eyes.  
  
"Oh, that girl in the park?" His grin was lop-sided. "I was angry and she was there. Tonight I'm just hungry." He moved toward her, his eyes suddenly focused on her mouth. "Unless you can think of another way to slake my thirst."  
  
Her eyes went to his mouth and watched as he ran the tip of his tongue across his lower lip. Victoria raised her hands palms up and motioned for him to come closer. Sands gladly stepped forward. As he did she pulled at her shirt popping the buttons and exposing the creamy white flesh below.  
  
"Yum," he said, putting his hands at her waist and bending forward to nuzzle the delicate skin at the base of her throat.  
  
Victoria put her hands around his waist and began to fondle his ear lob with her tongue. "So, Mr. Sands," she purred between nibles, "What will it be first? Shower? Pizza?" Her hands began exploring the rather loose waist ban of the slacks he was wearing.  
  
"First we eat, so we can actually have fun later," he told her. "Or, first we have a little fun, then eat, then shower, then have more fun." His mouth moved down and he put his mouth on her bra, wetting the material.  
  
Victoria arched her back, lifting her breasts. "Well, we have to find something to occupy our time waiting for the pizza man. After all it is snowing, and we do live in New York. It could be forever."  
  
He mumbled something unintelligible as his mouth moved up to the crook of her neck and his hands moved behind her. Warm tingles ran up her spine has his mouth tickled her and his tongue flicked out to lick the side of her neck.  
  
Victoria moaned with pleasure, but put her hands between the two of them and gently began to push on his chest. "You know, I'm the one who should be taking care of you," she protested.  
  
He blinked, looking into her eyes, let go of her, then swiveled and fell back onto the couch. "Take care of me, then, woman," he urged her, his arms flung out wide.  
  
She laughed at the sight of him sprawled out on the couch. He was crazy, but oh god did she like it!  
  
Stepping forward Victoria removed the blouse she was wearing exposing the lacey black push up bra below. Coming to the couch she dropped to her knees before him and began lavishing his upper body with light, lingering kisses. Her hands spread out to massage his forearms and shoulders while she work. She was practically purring as she moved over him.  
  
"Feel free to remove articles of clothing that are keeping you from your pleasure," he said in a husky voice.  
  
"What will the Pizza man say?" she teased as she focused her kisses along the waistband of his trousers.  
  
"He will say 'thank you' when I give him a big tip. Of course, he will have donated some blood before he leaves and have no memory of his donation, but he will be in a very good mood," Sands told her as her mouth moved over his flat stomach and her finger toyed with the treasure trail of dark hair that ran from just below his navel into the waistband of his trousers.  
  
"In that case." Victoria looked up at him with her big green eyes and began to untie the knotted waist band that held the unbearably oversized garment in place. Once it was loose it was easy to remove. She tugged on the legs and he instinctively lifted his hips to allow the fabric to pass. She smiled as his eager cooperation and then resumed her gentle kissing, all the time, slowly working her way downward, until she heard him moan in pleasure.  
  
His hands moved to lightly touch her arms, her hair. She looked up at his face. He wore a blissful expression. 


	44. A few candles and hot oil

Night 4 part 3  
  
Victoria lay over him, her cheek pressed against his chest, her arms loosely holding him. Sands looked down at the top of her head, the curves of her profile, and wondered what he had done to deserve this woman. There was a nagging voice in his head telling him if she knew all about him, about his bouts of insanity, his ability to totally turn himself off from feeling and kill, Victoria would leave him. At a run. He didn't want her to leave him.  
  
Few, it seemed as he looked back, ever did stay long. There was Lilith, of course, and his friend Andre. There were very few others, though: Jared, Michelle, Edith, Wiedholt and Spencer all came to mind. They were the few who truly knew him and still remained his friends. Most of those he grew close to either abandoned him, or died. The two world wars had taken a terrible toll on his small band of friends. He had freely followed Abberline's orders to fight the Nazis, never dreaming how much they knew about vampires. He would not underestimate his human enemies ever again.  
  
A buzz from the intercom system caused Victoria to stir. "Pizza," he told her.  
  
"I'll get the buzz, you get the door," she told him, rising up on her elbows and eyeing him. "Deal?"  
  
"Yep." She rose, picked up her clothes, and walked toward the intercom. She pushed the speak button. "Yes," she said into the speaker.  
  
"Pizza delivery." It was Al's voice.  
  
"Thank you, Al. Please send him up."  
  
She walked toward the bathroom. "Let me know when our snack is ready," she said to Sands as she passed him.  
  
He rose more slowly, pulled on the disgustingly ugly trousers he'd stolen form the dead vampire that morning, and pulled the cord that served as a belt tight, knotting it at the waist. The misbehaving trousers rode back down to the ridge of his hips as he headed toward the door, running both hands through his long dark hair and pushing it back and out of his face.  
  
He opened the door before the elevator outside announced the arrival of the delivery man. For one moment, Sands wondered if it really was the pizza delivery man, or had the elevator been hijacked by more of Viscalli's followers. Plans spun in Sands' imaginative brain, how he would slam the door, turn the lock, retreat out onto the balcony as he called to Victoria.  
  
The elevator doors opened and a young man, perhaps even still in his teens, stepped out holding the red and white box from Amico's Pizzaria.  
  
"Hey, here," Sands called, gesturing into the apartment. "I'm glad you're coming out in this weather. I'd have starved to death tonight without you." As the young man passed inside, Sands pointed toward the darkened kitchen. "In there. I keep the cash in there."  
  
Sands followed the man, who trailed the aroma of tomato sauce, cheese and pepperoni, into the kitchen, tapping on the light switch, which flooded the austere modern room with lights. "On the table," Sands told the Amico man. "What do I owe you?"  
  
"Twenty-two-fifty," the young man spoke, revealing a local accent. He wore a thick sky jacket, trucker's cap, jeans, boots and a muffler.  
  
"Okay. You get a big tip for this," Sands told him. He went to the cookie jar and pulled out some bills. "Tell me, my girlfriend and I are having an argument. Do you think my right eye is darker than my left?"  
  
Sands walked right up to the delivery man, the money in one hand, pointing to his eyes with the other.  
  
Blinking, the young man looked from one eye to the other. That was all it took. Sands stared into his eyes, willing him to stand still. He did.  
  
"You will enjoy this," Sands told the young man, reaching to unwrap the muffler. "You won't remember it, but you'll remember that you got a big tip here and you'll want to be the one who delivers the next pizza here. Right?"  
  
"Right," came the automatic reply.  
  
"Oh, our delivery man," Victoria said, coming up behind him. She moved around to look at him more closely. "He's young. How old are you?"  
  
"Twenty-two."  
  
"In college?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Don't talk to your food," Sands told her with a quick smile. He turned his attention to the man. "Close your eyes."  
  
The man obeyed. Sands moved closer and bit into the man's neck.  
  
"Just like in the movies," Victoria laughed.  
  
Sands did not drink much. He raised his head after only a minute and looked at Victoria. "Your turn."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
She moved to take Sands' place, following his lead and taking only a little blood from the young man's neck. She then licked the site and smiled at Sands. "I'll meet you in the shower." She brushed her lips against his as she passed by him and left the kitchen.  
  
Sands watched her leave the room, then turned back to the delivery man. He picked up the young man's empty hand and put the money in it. "Here's a few hundred bucks. Have a good night."  
  
He turned the man around and aimed him back toward the front entry. "Thanks again for coming out in the cold. Are you okay?"  
  
"Uh-huh," the man nodded. "Thanks for the tip." He walked slowly, like a man waking from a dream.  
  
Sands opened the door, watched the man get into the elevator, then closed and locked his door. He felt a lot better. It didn't take much for him to be energized. The older he got, the less he actually needed.  
  
His mind leapt to the shower. With a grin, he padded toward the master bathroom, anticipating a memorable shower. He worked at the knotted rope that served as a belt for his trousers as he walked toward the sound of streaming water. He imagined Victoria standing under the pouring water. His grin grew wider. He let the trousers fall to the ground, stepped out of them, and kicked them out of the way, before passing into the darkened bedroom.  
  
Steam was coming from the open bathroom door and golden light streamed softly from the room. Victoria must have lit candles.  
  
"Lucy, I'm home," he said in a soft whisper, walking into the bathroom.  
  
He was right. The bathroom was alight with many small flickering lights and steam from the shower poured into the room. He could just make out the faint silhouette of Victoria behind the frosted glass. She was letting the water pour over her slightly bowed head.  
  
"Well are you just going to stand there?" her voice echoed around him.  
  
He didn't need a second invitation. Pulling at the rope belt on his trousers, he yanked the knot free, pushed the baggy clothes down, and stepped out of them. He walked into the open shower and tilted his head sideways as he bent down so that he was looking up into Victoria's face.  
  
"Hi, dimples," he said batting his eyelashes. "I remember something about getting my back scrubbed."  
  
She dutifully showed him her lovely dimples as she smiled. "Let me shampoo my hair, then I'll be your humble servant." She raised her brows suggestively.  
  
"Oh, I don't need humble or servant," he told her, stepping to the side to allow her access to the shampoo bottle. "Just a back scrubber person. Just you."  
  
She reached past him with both hands and pumped some shampoo into her open palm. He watched her as she lathered it into her hair. His gaze was drawn to the way the suds of the shampoo flowed down her body, over her shoulders, down her back. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but that wasn't the game they were playing tonight. He could only watch and notice how his body responded to hers.  
  
The flickering light of the dozen candles painted her skin a golden ivory. He took in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of her wet and covered in shampoo. She turned around, letting her head fall back as she rinsed off the shampoo. Their eyes met, and he could only wonder if she was feeling any of what he felt. There was a smoldering fire burning deep within him. It tingled along his thighs, up his belly, and caused a twitching sensation in his manhood. Down, boy, he told himself. Slow and easy. Slow and easy.  
  
He was conscious of the aching pain where the silver had bitten into him. This little game they played had a little truth in it. It would hurt him if he tried to raise his arms above his head to shampoo his own hair. Hopefully, she would do that for him. She seemed to know what he was feeling.  
  
His thoughts darted to what she had said about reading minds. He would have to ask her about that later. Much later. Tonight was for fantasies coming to life.  
  
She turned around again to apply crème rinse to her hair, then let the warm water rinse that out, too. She moved with a dancer's grace, her long slender limbs at once strong and beautiful.  
  
"Now," she said, picking up the bottle of soap and a loofa, "it's your turn, Mr. Sands."  
  
"That's what I've been waiting to hear." He stepped forward under the streaming water and let his forehead lean against the cool tiles of the shower stall. The water poured over his head, his shoulders, and flowed in little rivulets over his back.  
  
She used the loofa in one hand, her free hand simply touching him, as she lightly scrubbed his back. Taking her time running the loofa down his arms and legs, Victoria then gently turned him around and cleaned the front of his body. If she noticed his growing state of arousal, she didn't let it interfere with her ministrations.  
  
He closed his eyes as the warm water and her touches soothed him. Then he felt the shampoo and her fingers on his scalp and he sighed.  
  
"If you like this, she said in a soft warm voice, "you'll love the massage."  
  
"Oh yes," he purred back. "Bring it on."  
  
"All in good time." She continued to work the lather on his scalp. "We've got all night."  
  
Victoria's hands worked slowly. She must have sensed how much he was relishing her touch. "Time to rinse off," she said quietly, letting her words rise and evaporate with the steam. Victoria tilted his head towards the stream of water and ran her hands up and under his hair. Sands' eyes followed the trail of suds as they escaped down the drain.  
  
After he was rinsed clean, she reached past him and turned the shower off. "Time to dry you and then... the massage." Her voice held promise.  
  
Like a blind man, he let her guide him out of the shower. It brought back memories of those months of blindness, sending his thoughts momentarily into dark circles.  
  
Her light touch and the soft terrycloth towel brought him back to the present. He hadn't been bathed by anyone since some time in the mid- nineteenth century when he'd visited a very exclusive brothel in Venice.  
  
"Come now, lay down." She coaxed him with her hands over to the bed, where he gratefully lay down.  
  
After a few moments of rummaging through the cabinets in the bathroom, she returned and set up a small aroma therapy bowl, pouring in the massage oil. It was scented with almond, one of his favorite scents. How did she know?  
  
Silently he watched her dip her fingers into the warm oil and then rub her hands together. As her soft palms began making slow circles on his upper back, he asked her. "Tell me about it."  
  
"Tell you about what?" she asked, as she began to apply the slightest bit of pressure to her motions.  
  
"How you read minds."  
  
"I just open my mind." He felt a bit of hesitation in her hands. "It's like walking through a maze really." She paused as she reached for more oil, rubbing her hands together before resuming her ministrations, this time on his lower back. "You think about where you want to go, and follow the trail. But sometimes," her words stopped.  
  
"Sometimes what?" He could sense her unease sharing this with him.  
  
"Sometimes," she continued slowly, as she worked her hands gently down his spine, "it can be painful, especially if the mind I am trying to invade is particularly strong."  
  
"Painful? How can thoughts be painful?" His hips shifted as her hands moved over his still-tense muscles. "God, that feels good."  
  
"I am glad you like it."  
  
He thought he could hear her smile as she spoke.  
  
Victoria stood and shifted her position. He saw her reach for some more of the scented oil and watched as she rubbed it between the palms of her hands. When she seem satisfied, Victoria sat down on the edge of the bed and began working away at the muscles in his legs.  
  
"You have such strong legs," she complimented. "Well, it is sometimes difficult," she continued to explain, "to block out other thoughts, or to find what you are looking for. Strong minds are difficult and require more coaxing. Simple minds like Jacob McLeod are easy, the thoughts are just floating around waiting for some one to pick them up." She sighed as she leaned forward, massaging his calf muscles.  
  
"I was an avid rider," he told her. "Horses and the ladies." He couldn't help but smile. "I ran with a rather unrepentant crowd in my days as a human."  
  
She playfully slapped his rear in response to his teasing and then continued to speak: "Now Viscalli, he was the most difficult mind I ever breeched. I went a little to far with him. He knows me now." Sands noticed a change in the tone of her words as she motioned Viscalli.  
  
"Then we're even, because he knows me," Sands told her. "At least, he thinks he does. I think he can read minds, too. Something that happened when I was there." His thoughts skipped back to the hours he was held captive on that infernal table, and he nibbled at his bottom lip in thought.  
  
"I know he can, he's trying to read mine."  
  
"Now?" He started to rise, putting his weight on his forearms, but the pain of his recent injuries caused him to intake breath in a hiss and lay back down.  
  
"Easy!" Victoria urged. She turned and put her lips next to his ear, her oily palms resting on his shoulders. "No not now. He's quiet now, but all through the house and when we were in the forest too."  
  
"That house?" Sands asked, relaxing a little. "Where was that, anyway? Hungary? Romania?"  
  
"Hungary." She began to rub the back of his neck her finger gentle, yet strong, dancing along his spine.  
  
"I haven't been their much. So you lived there with Mr. Jerk?" He kept his tone light, hoping she'd tell him about her time there.  
  
"Yes," she paused skeptically. "He kept me there." The tone of her voice was laced with ice. "Are you sure you want to hear about that stuff?' she asked.  
  
He sighed. "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that sort of treatment. But, I don't understand. If you could read minds, couldn't you tell he was a total scumbag before you got too close to him?" He turned his head to try and see her expression.  
  
Her eyes were closed and, when they opened again, filled with sadness. "I didn't discover my abilities until after I was turned, and they didn't mature until after I had tired to kill him."  
  
Settling back on the bed, Sands thought about that. "We do seem to get different gifts once we're turned. Some of them can be passed from our sires, but not all. I think they have to intend to share them."  
  
"Jacob never shared anything," she said flatly. "Can I work on your wounds?"  
  
"What do you mean, 'work on my wounds?'" That didn't sound good.  
  
She laughed. "Can I rub them? Or will it hurt to much?"  
  
"Please, don't touch them." Did she think it would feel good? "I thought Jacob used silver on you before."  
  
"He did, but once he'd beaten me he wouldn't want to see me again until I was fully healed. I guess he didn't like to be reminded of his dirty work." Victoria careful worked her way around the blackened marks. "Roll over when your ready for more."  
  
"But didn't it hurt you? I mean," he searched for words, "wouldn't it have been painful for someone to touch them?"  
  
"I was in a lot of pain, sometimes I wanted to die."  
  
"Then why did you think I would want my wounds touched? I don't follow you, darlin'"  
  
"I don't know. I just want you to feel better. I wasn't thinking to clearly I guess."  
  
A slow smile pulled at his lips. "It's because you're dazzled by the sheer vision of my naked body," he teased.  
  
Victoria's rubbing grew a little stronger. "Having a handsome man between my thighs, that might do it."  
  
"Oh, should I turn over now? If I remember correctly, you promised to cover me and I would like to explore all possible ways of doing that." He turned beneath her, reaching to touch her forearms, his eyes going to her glittering green eyes. "Are you ready to cover me?"  
  
"Anytime Mr. Sands," she purred in response.  
  
She lowered her face to his, brushing his lips with hers. He opened his mouth in anticipation. "I'm hungry for you," he said in a husky voice.  
  
"Are you now? " she teased his mouth with her lips. "What do you need?" she asked seductively.  
  
He wiggled his hips. "What is my body telling you, southern belle?"  
  
Her eyes dropped to his hips where the swelling between his thighs was pressing against her. She smiled and covered his mouth with her own and then lowered herself down over him as his hips raised to meet her. She moaned with pleasure at the joining.  
  
A low throaty grown escaped his mouth. "That's what I mean," he told her. "You can cover me anytime, sugarbutt."  
  
She rotated her hips in response slowly rising and falling over him. He felt his thoughts dissolve as pure instinct took over. He couldn't take his eyes off her. She was in shadow now, only the faint light from the candles in the bathroom behind her and to the right allowing a little gold to outline her dark form. Yet her eyes sparkled and he could see the white of her teeth as she opened her mouth above him.  
  
Victoria's eyes locked with his own. Her breathing grew faster as her motions grew quicker. She seemed to lower herself more each time as if she were trying to take more and more of him with each push.  
  
The heat flooded through him like a sudden fever. He slowly opened and closed his eyes, the sensations building in him, taking his attention away from his ears, his eyes. He could only feel her and smell her, and those two sensations seem to build upon one another until there was only her.  
  
"I need you," Victoria moaned her head thrown back as she continued to ride him.  
  
He didn't know how much more he could give her, but her words made him smile. Maybe his shoulders weren't working too well, but his hips were just fine, and he lifted them to meet her downward thrusts, his breaths growing ragged as he rose closer towards the pinnacles of bliss. She began to moan, softly at first, but increasingly louder with each motion. Her fingers went to the sheets and she tore at them. He could see what his thrusting was doing to her.  
  
Then her body was everything. There was nothing in the universe except the two of them and the shooting feeling of rising, rising rising ever higher. It took him, arching his back, causing him to release a hoarse groan as he held onto her thighs and surged into her, shuddering in pleasure.  
  
She threw back her head and gave one last powerful thrust into him, with her own body. Her hands covered his hands and she called out his name in ecstasy.  
  
Lifting his upper body, he reached almost blindly for her mouth, capturing her lips in a deep long kiss, even as his body continued to tremble beneath hers.  
  
Hungrily she devoured his mouth, her thighs trembling with pleasure. He could feel her shudder and knew she was satisfied. Her hands went to his face as she began to lower herself.  
  
"I knew you could cover me," he whispered to her, a smile spreading across his face as he looked into her heavily lidded eyes.  
  
"You nut." She kissed the tip of his nose. "I'll cover you any day."  
  
"I may hold you to that." He kissed her again, his hands still on her thighs, running lightly up and down to her calves.  
  
She laughed lightly. "I hope you do." 


	45. Sands & Victoria go out

Night 5 part 1  
  
The soothing sounds of Mozart filled Victoria's apartment, drowning out the pattering of sleet against the ceiling-high windows. Already nine p.m., Victoria noticed. She wondered when Sands would call. He had said he would when he said that he wanted to go out. Something about going goth. She wasn't sure what that meant.  
  
It had been several days since she had last seen Sheldon Jeffrey Sands and she found him creeping into her thoughts; that half-smile that caused her insides to flutter, the dark eyes that could look downright angelic at times. She sighed, picked up her book and continued to read, shaking him from her mind.  
  
She smiled when the phone rang. Jumping up from the couch she quickly crossed the floor and answered the call. "Hello, Sands." she said pleasantly.  
  
"Hello, mind-reader." He sounded amused. "Did you still want to go goth with me?"  
  
She felt her own cheeks dimpling with a smile. "Whatever that means."  
  
"Oh, yeah, I forgot. You've lived in a cave for the past hundred years. Well, just dress all in black. If you have really dark make up, wear that. Try to look like a movie vampire...sort of."  
  
Her eyes narrowed. "Are you pulling my leg?"  
  
"No, but if you'd like, I'm available for any body part you want pulled."  
  
She could imagine him grinning wickedly on the other end of the line.  
  
"All right," she paused, her curiosity growing, "I'll be ready. What time will you be here? Or would you rather I meet you?" she asked.  
  
There was a quick response. "I'll come get you, that way if you're not quite goth enough, we can stop and get what you need."  
  
She smiled, "What time?"  
  
"How about half-past eleven?" he asked, and she couldn't help but remember he might sound very American now, but he was still a Brit under the skin.  
  
"Don't keep me waiting," she teased and then soften her voice. "I've missed you," she said quietly before hanging up the receiver, not giving him a chance to respond.  
  
Victoria ran up the stairs and, flinging herself into her closet, she began hunting for an outfit, all the while thinking 'movie vampire, movie vampire.' and giggling to herself.  
  
Precisely at 11:30 there was a chime from the doorbell. Victoria's head whipped around. She took a deep breath and studied at herself in the mirror.  
  
Nervously she straightened the black fishnet stockings and sighed deeply. This was definitely a new look for her. Making her way down the staircase, she crossed to the door. Well, best to get this over with, she thought. "You better not laugh!" she said through the door before flinging it open.  
  
There stood Sands, but he looked so very different. He wore mascara, she was sure of it, and he dressed all black; black v-neck vest, black jacket, black trench coat, black boots. And his hair had excessive amounts of mousse in it. He looked at her with a small smile playing across his mouth as his eyes locked with hers.  
  
"You look," he paused to rake her with his gaze, "edible."  
  
She leaned against the door and motioned him in. "Thank you. I like your eyes," she complemented him.  
  
"Pure decadence," he responded, walking in and pausing, pressing the length of his body against hers. He leaned forward, lightly kissing her cheek, one hand gently holding the angle of her jaw.  
  
Stepping back from his embrace she asked, "Is this goth?" as she turned, modeling her fishnets and black paten leather boots. "I wasn't sure about the dress?"  
  
Her gaze was drawn to his tongue as he studied her, because he wet his bottom lip before gliding his teeth over it. "You look yummy, darling."  
  
She smiled and tugged at the torn edge of a black fishnet top. Her black bra showed through. "Well then, shall we go? I am very curious to see where you are taking me."  
  
He watched as she reached for her coat. "It's called The Darkness. The people there...well, you'll see. It will be fun." He smiled more fully. "I hope you like to role play."  
  
She turned quickly a sparkle in her green eyes. "Of course I do." Then she reached for his arm. "Let's go, you can tell me who I'm supposed to be on the way."  
  
Victoria was a little surprised to see Sands had hired a limo and driver for the night. "Good evening," the chauffer said, holding an umbrella over them as they dashed from the front door of her building to where it sat double-parked in the freezing sleet, it's door ajar.  
  
"What's this?" she question, as she ducked her head and entered the vehicle. The mood lighting was on and the roof twinkled in turquoise and purple stars. Sands slid in beside her, a mischievous smile across his lips. Her eyes were drawn to those beautiful lips.  
  
The driver walked around and soon the limo was merging into traffic. That was the thing about New York, she mused, the city was never quiet.  
  
The window was up between the chauffer and them, she noticed.  
  
"I thought we might enjoy it," Sands finally replied to her, jerking his head to refer to the limousine. "We don't have to worry about no place to park. In the last century, we would have hired a carriage, wouldn't we?"  
  
She couldn't help but notice the mascara on him again. It emphasized how long and thick his lashes were, and she smiled. "You look different, almost dangerous," she told him.  
  
"I am dangerous," he told her in a low, growling voice. He leaned toward her, nipping at her neck, sending a shiver down her spine.  
  
"I know you are," she responded as she tilted her head and leaned into his nibble.  
  
They arrived at The Darkness a several minutes later. Victoria straightened her straps and pouted at Sands. "Is my lipstick all right?"  
  
He licked his own lips. "Tastes good to me." He grinned at her, raising his brows mischievously.  
  
Once again, the chauffer acted as their protector from the weather, holding a large umbrella over them as they walked toward the club's door. The anteroom within was crowded with people. At the far end stood a very tall, muscular man. He stood before a velvet rope, keeping them from entering the club, a clipboard in one hand.  
  
As if sensing them, he looked up as Victoria and Sands entered, and immediately moved to unlatch the velvet rope's hook and hold it so the two of them could pass into the club beyond.  
  
They walked down a very dark hallway, stopping only to give to give their coats to the cloakroom attendant. They continued on to a door, which Sands pushed open. A vast wall of loud, thumping sound flooded over them. Victoria held her hands up to her sensitive hears, but Sands pulled one down and put something soft into it. She squinted down and saw earplugs. With a laugh, she fitted them in.  
  
"They're the kind they use to filter out loud sounds, but allow you to hear the voice," he informed her, smiling at her. "Sorry, I remembered to bring them, but once I saw you, all thoughts of them vanished until now." He shrugged.  
  
"I'm glad you remembered." She looked into the club. It was swarming with people dressed similar to them, illuminated by very dim ultra-modern lighting, and decorated with couches, chairs, and a long bar. One end of the long narrow rectangular room was a video screen where an old horror film played, drowned out by the loud music.  
  
"Why do they dress like this?" Victoria asked Sands, her mouth up against his ear.  
  
"They're pretending to be vampires," he explained.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I guess you never read Ann Rice." He looked into the room, taking her hand. "Come on, we'll mingle. You'll get the gist of it."  
  
"I don't..." But he had drawn her further into the crowd and she could no longer continue her line of questioning.  
  
Victoria looked around the room at the strange array of humans. Their myriad thoughts came flooding in on her and she suddenly stopped in her tracks, causing Sands to turn and look at her. She held her hand to her head.  
  
"What's wrong?" Sands bent over so he could look up into her face. "Are you in pain?" There was real concern in his voice.  
  
She slowly shook her head. "No, too many thoughts, too many emotions." She dropped her hand and looked into his chocolaty eyes. "I'm okay now, I just became overwhelmed for a moment. I've blocked them all out now." She smiled to let him know she was fine. "Lead on."  
  
"Are you?" he asked, still studying her.  
  
"Yes." She smiled, squeezing his hand.  
  
He took her at her word and led her past the bar to a door. This one was watched over by yet another over-sized man, who saw them coming and opened it for them. "What's this, then?" she asked Sands. "Are you a regular here or something?"  
  
"Something, yes," he said mysteriously.  
  
She couldn't help but notice that the large man inclined his head to them as they passed through into what appeared to be a private side of the club. This was much smaller, much more quiet. There were only a few darkened tables and a stage on one end, a small bar along one side.  
  
"What's this?" she asked, still clutching his hand.  
  
"This is for us and friends. Not the public." He turned and went towards two couples sitting at a table. "Hello, Chris, Stacey, Angie, Jo. How are you this evening?"  
  
They all smiled, and Sands introduced her by her first name. These four were thralls, she was sure of it. She wondered why he was so friendly with them and why they all knew him.  
  
"S.J.," someone called from behind them.  
  
They turned and a waiter stood there, a drink on a tray held out for Sands. "What will the lady have?" he asked, and his question was politically correct, in that it was directed towards both of them.  
  
Victoria surveyed the scene with an eye of caution. This was all very strange.  
  
"What would you like, darling?" Sands asked her.  
  
She knew Sands would not lead her into danger. "I'll have whatever he's having," she said with a smile, all the while keeping her guard up.  
  
"Oh, I don't think you want this," he told her. "It's a bad habit I picked up from Abberline. Would you like a mint julep or something?"  
  
"What I'd like is a bourbon on the rocks with a twist of lime." Victoria looked at him questioningly and took his glass from his hand. Raising it to her lips she tasted a little bit of the odd colored liquid inside. Her nose wrinkled and she returned his glass. "Ah, Absinth. I'll stick to bourbon."  
  
The waiter nodded and moved away. Sands turned back to the foursome. "I hope you enjoy the group tonight," he told them with a little wave. "The set should start about one."  
  
"We heard they are great," Jo smiled.  
  
Sands lead Victoria off to a table marked with a 'reserved' sign. She noticed some of the other darkened tables had couples.  
  
"Alright, what's going on?" she questioned playfully. Sands motioned for her to slide into the booth.  
  
"What do you mean, what's going on?" he asked innocently.  
  
She looked at him skeptically. "You know: The door. The man with the velvet rope. The guy at the bar." She motioned around the room. "Those four. I mean I know you're charming and all, but come on."  
  
He began to grin. "Well, you see, I sort of own this club."  
  
Victoria's mouth dropped open a bit, as she blinked her eyes. "You own this place?" She looked around a little in awe. "You own a place where people pretend to be vampires." The humor struck her at that moment and she couldn't help but laugh.  
  
Sands laughed with her. "You get it." He nodded. "Yeah, you see, I learned about these sort of clubs where people come and pretend to be vampires and I thought, what a great way for us to feed, and to have fun, and to hang out in peace." He gestured around. "We have it all here."  
  
"How many of our kind know about your place?"  
  
He shrugged. "All of our clan knows. I imagine those who read that rag they publish out of there know, too. But no unfriendlies would venture here."  
  
"That's good." Her eyes raked the room. "And them?" she questioned nodding to the group they first encountered. "Friends of your?"  
  
"Those are thralls of some of the Danner clan. We're allies, you know. Lots of our more friendly clan members or their thralls hang out here." He leaned forwards, putting his elbows on the table and holding his drink with both hands. "See, the visitors come in three flavors: Vampires, Thralls, and Mundanes. The Mundanes come in three flavors: Toursits, Regulars who pretend to be vampires but think they're mythical, and Regulars who know we're real and are vying to become thralls themselves."  
  
"Well I think I prefer the regulars who think we're mythical." She leaned closer to him. "The others are too dangerous."  
  
"Ah, but those who know we're real can't tell one of us from a human. The real danger is from the thralls who are not well controlled. They want to drink our blood so they can become one of us, but we must never give it to them. Those who control them should be the ones who turn them. Bloody hell!" He sat straight up, his eyes narrowing, the corners of his lips pulling down.  
  
"What is it?" Victoria looked around and saw a couple enter.  
  
"It's Ron Agellon. I hate the bastard," Sands seethed. "He double crossed me once, stupid bloody idiot."  
  
"Why would Ron Agellon come here?" She glanced casually to see the couple who entered the room. "Especially if he knows this place is yours?" Victoria returned her gaze to Sands and whispered. "Trouble always seems to follow the two of us when we're together."  
  
Sands' eyes closed for a moment. When he opened them, he was looking into her eyes. "He's not trouble, Sugarbutt. He's a jerk. I could handle him with both my eyes plucked out. In fact I have." He flashed a very quick wicked grin. "He probably heard I was out of the country and thought it was safe to visit here. I could send him a drink. He'd think it was poison. That might be fun." 


	46. The Darkness Club

Night 5 part 2  
  
He motioned to a waiter and she could hear him order Ron and his guest the 'same' as he was having. That was almost like ordering them poison, she mused.  
  
She laughed and placed her hand on top of his. There were so many things she liked about the man at her side, someday she would have to tell him. "You were mentioning that rag earlier. Do you think our photo has appeared in it yet? I'd like to kill the guy who took it."  
  
She continued speaking, nerves did that to her. "I mean, how do you handle it? Everywhere you go people seem to know who you are. It still makes me very uncomfortable."  
  
"He's sure to have been one of us, and a clan member, so you can't kill him, but I think they wouldn't mind too much if we tortured him." Sands settled into the back of the booth, running a hand through his hair. "When you get really thirsty, we can go mingle in the next room. They'll think we're playing the game, and you can make them forget you really drank from them."  
  
He turned to look back at her. She could feel her insides tingle when he did that. It was as if she was the only person in the world and she had his complete attention. "Having people know who I am is a two-sided blade. It can work to my advantage at times. At others..." He shrugged. "Que sera, sera."  
  
She nodded in understanding. "I guess it'll get a little getting use to." Her face lit up playfully. "Especially if I continue my association with you." Victoria leaned forward and kissed him softly savoring the moment.  
  
As their lips drew apart again he tilted his head to the side. "If you continue your association with me?"  
  
She raised her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders. Victoria was still uncomfortable, in many ways years of abuse took their toll. She would work through it, the told herself, he was worth it. "Well, I haven't seen you in several days. I thought you might prefer your space."  
  
He pouted a little at that. "Sometimes I do. But I needed to recover. It's too risky going out when you're not at 100%."  
  
"I know," she gazed deeply into his eyes. "It's just that you make me feel alive, and I'd hate to loose that right now."  
  
He graced her with a lop-sided grin. "I'd hate to lose that any time." He moved closer to her in the booth, putting his lips next to her ear. "I can still remember the shock of being turned. The realization that I'd lost everyone I ever loved, that they could never see me again. In the depth of that grief, I discovered the excitement of just being alive as a vampire, only as a vampire could be." His words were tinged with that enthusiasm. "I hadn't really lived before, I just thought I had."  
  
Her eyes fluttered. She loved the sensation of his breath against her earlobe. "Perhaps you can help me to enjoy this life. I never really had the chance."  
  
His hand reached up to gently touch her cheek as his lips moved even closer towards her earlobe. "Oh, yes," he said. He kissed her earlobe, then her neck, her jaw, the corner of her mouth. "I will help you." He kissed her mouth, pressing into her with his chest, his right thigh pressing against her left one.  
  
A wave of happiness flowed through her body as his body pressed against hers. Victoria lifted one leg and set it over his. Her arms encircled his waist as she passionately returned his affection. When their lips parted, she tilted her head back to look into his eyes. "You know I think I am getting a little thirsty, and not for bourbon. You want to go dance?" she asked hopefully.  
  
"I'm a terrible dancer," he told her, "but if it will make you happy, sure." He stood up, holding a crooked arm out to her. She slipped her arm through his and they headed back to the loud, main room of the club.  
  
"Well, you could just watch me if you prefer," she suggested.  
  
As they entered the main room, she noticed that it was a little more crowded than before. The humans were packing the dance floor in front of the large movie screen where the silent film, Nosferatu glowed behind them. "See anything that looks tasty?" she said as they sauntered forward.  
  
"You," he replied softly, his gaze sliding toward her, then back to the crowd. "I am getting a bit of an appetite though. Do you want to do this as a pair?"  
  
"Let's see how things go." She pulled on his hand and merged with the crowd on the dance floor. The music pumped and throbbed; resonating throughout her body it reminded her of a heartbeat. Slowly she began to sway, twisting her arms and rotating her hips to the beat of the music. Her eyes rose to meet Sands intense stare.  
  
Victoria shut her eyes. Feeling the rhythm of the music, her body seemed to move unconsciously. She twisted and turned as the music crescendoed and then opened her eyes. There stood Sands in the middle of the dance floor as still as a statue. His dark eyes were fixed upon her motion and she felt the heat from his stare. Victoria casually glanced around to see the humans react. He was attracting some attention for the way he stood fixed as all around him seemed to spin and whirl. Her eyes fluttered and she wondered what was going on behind those dark eyes. She fought back the urge to pry, and instead slid up next to him, her lips hovering near his collar bone. "Is there something wrong?" she asked as the teasing movements of her body attracted attention from the males in close proximity.  
  
"Wrong?" he said, his voice barely audible above the thumping beat of the music, despite the earplugs. He shrugged.  
  
"Why aren't you dancing?" she asked the obvious.  
  
His brows rose quizzically. "I'm here."  
  
"You aren't moving." She demonstrated.  
  
"I don't dance," he said, his eyes focusing somewhere down near her feet.  
  
Was Sands' embarrassed? Her own mouth opened in surprise. "You don't dance?" He moved like a dancer, how could it be he didn't dance?  
  
His head snapped up. "I don't dance."  
  
There had to be a story behind this, she decided. She smiled. "I'd like to hear why? After all, you move beautifully." Still her body swayed to the beat.  
  
His mouth twitched into what was almost a smile and he looked up at her from beneath a veil of dark lashes. "Some other time. I move," he lowered his mouth towards her ear, "like a vampire. That's all."  
  
Victoria, enjoying the moment, decided to let the subject rest. "Shall we feed then?" She turned around, her back against his chest, her hips grinding into his as if the music prompted her to. Victoria's arms went up over her head and she arched her back into him. "See anything that looks promising?" Victoria continued scanning the floor looking for a likely target.  
  
His fingers brushed her neck, pulling her hair gently back, then his lips followed, lightly touching the skin there, then kissing, following by the warm, wetness of his tongue. His other arm had mysteriously encircled her waist, holding her more firmly against himself. She looked as far to the side as the position allowed, but could only see his overly-moussed hair falling over his features.  
  
At that moment, a human clumsily bumped into the two of them. He was a little drunk and flaying his arms wildly to the music. His vapid eyes turned to them, "Sorry mate," he half-heartedly mumbled. Victoria's body tensed and a low growl came from somewhere deep inside.  
  
"It's okay," Sands' voice was in her ear. "Just one of the morsels." He used the arm around her waist to spin her around and hold her against himself, this time face to face. "Didn't you say you were hungry?"  
  
Pressed against his body she felt safe, her body instantly relaxed. "Ravenous."  
  
She could smell the absinthe on his breath and now, this close to him, she could see that his pupils were almost entirely dilated. He smiled into her eyes. "We have to play the game, my dear. Come with me."  
  
Taking her hand, he put it to his lips, kissed the knuckles, then the top of her hand, then turning, tucked her arm into his and walked her towards one of the shadowy corners. Collections of couches were placed in conversation-pit style. Humans sat in pairs or larger groups, talking, drinking, pretending to be vampires. How delicious, she thought.  
  
She laughed. Sands motioned her to a small group of darkly painted figures. The leader of this band had heavily painted eyes and wore a crucifix from a dog collar about his neck. As she and Sands approached, he bared his manufactured fangs. "What do we have here?" he asked as he directed the attention to the two of them.  
  
Sands simply smiled, his eyes meeting those of the group's alpha male. Victoria could feel the excitement building inside of her. Sands was right, this would be fun.  
  
"Can we join you?" she requested pleasantly in a Russian accent. Before receiving a reply she was already seating herself, wrapping her long leg in a luxurious manner around the large silken cushion.  
  
The human with the dark eyes appeared intrigued. He leaned forward, pushing his long blacken hair behind one ear. "I am the vampire Luther," he stated, "and you are?" He arched an eyebrow rather dramatically.  
  
Victoria smiled seductively, her senses heightened. She could smell her prey, could sense the interest in the others sitting beside Luther. "Natasha," she said, continuing in a Russian accent. "And this is..."  
  
Sands cut her off. "Jonathan," he said, his face passive. Raising a questioning brow, he looked at the two women sitting beside Luther.  
  
Luther smiled, confident that he was the one in charge. His eyes glanced towards the two women at his side. "This is Isabel," he indicated with a slight wave of his wrist, "And this is Magdalena." The two girls had their eyes fixed on Sands' beautiful face. Was he already working his charms? "They are my minions," Luther explained, obviously oblivious to Sands' effect on the two women.  
  
Victoria leaned forward, attempting to look interested, fighting the urge to laugh. "Minions?" she questioned.  
  
"You must be new here," Luther said. He watched as Sands tilted his head to one side and the two women beside Luther separated, allowing Sands a seat, which he smoothly took. Luther watched this, a baffled expression growing across his features.  
  
Victoria reached for his face and gently cupped his chin. "Don't mind Jonathan, he has a way with the women." She looked directly into Luther's eyes, willing his attention to her. "Tell me more about your minions." He responded by inching closer to her.  
  
The darkness hid a lot of what they were doing, but as Victoria looked past Luther, she could see Sands had wasted no time. His mouth was moving over Isabel's neck as Magdalena reached to stroke his back from behind, waiting her turn. It at once stimulated Victoria and made her jealous. There was only one solution, of course, and even as she reached to kiss Luther, she pictured what she would do with Sands once they got back to her apartment.  
  
As her lips met Luther's, she could feel the desire rising within him. His hands reached out to embrace her and she allowed it. She allowed his lips to ravish her neck in the hurried fashion that men often follow. Her eyes focused once again on Sands, who had finished with Isabel and had moved on to Magdalena. Victoria ran her tongue along Luther's neck and slowly sunk her teeth into his skin. The sweet rush of warm blood ran across her tongue and she moaned. Luther, of course, thought it was due to his ministrations.  
  
The young man's hand moved to cup her breast, pressing his body against hers, bringing a leg up to cover her knee. He still didn't seem to be conscious of the fact that she was drinking from him, and she pressed her will into him, telling him she was merely kissing him, role-playing, and that he was enjoying it. She did not allow her pleasure to flow into him. Not here. He might try to follow her home.  
  
Drawing back, she smiled at him through half-lidded eyes. "That was very interesting Luther, you must tell me more," she purred and glanced over to Sands, whose eyes were once again boring into her. Luther nodded and she gently pushed him away from her. Taking his hand from her breast and placing it upon his own knee.  
  
"Yes, Luther, tell me about it, too," Sands said, leaning past Isabel too look Luther in the eye.  
  
Luther blinked and stared into Sands darkening expression. Victoria smiled a little more, awaiting his response.  
  
"Minions follow me," Luther explained. "I control them."  
  
"Oh, really?" Sands asked. Luther didn't seem to hear it, but Victoria caught something dangerous in Sands' tone. She reached past Luther and Isabel to touch Sands' arm. "Let him explain, darling," she asked in her fake Russian accent.  
  
Luther had gone too far. The jealousy she'd felt watching Sands' lips on another women, had he felt it too, when Luther embraced her? Luther straighten his velvet jacket. "I drink a little of their blood and then they belong to me." His eyes shifted towards Victoria.  
  
"Oh," Sands said, looking between Magdalena and Isabel. "You belong to him?"  
  
"No, to you," Isabel said, her hand reaching to stroke his thigh.  
  
"To you," Magdalena echoed, her hand reaching to push the hair back from his brow.  
  
Sands looked a little confused as he turned back to Luther.  
  
Victoria pursed her lips. Sands had enthralled them to prove a point. Luther stammered, "Isabel!" His eyes shot to the other girl. "Magadelena! We had an agreement!" Victoria reached out and turned Luther's face towards hers. For a moment her eyes looked past him to Sands. "Forget about them," she whispered.  
  
The human didn't stand a chance. He looked into her eyes, his own glazing over, and she knew she had him.  
  
"Well done," Sands said. He stood, again demonstrating how graceful he could be, and held out a hand to her. "Unless you're still famished, we can go back to the private club."  
  
She placed her hand in his and allowed him to help her to her feet. She wrapped her arm around his and the two slipped away into the crowd leaving the three - Isabel, Magdalena and Luther - in a dreamy state. "He made you angry," she said casually.  
  
"Stupidity always makes me angry," he said, then paused to look at her. "But not really angry, just more impatient. If I was really angry, I'd have killed him, or at least planned his death."  
  
Victoria raised her eyebrows, "Really," she said questioningly. "Because I wanted to claw their eyes out."  
  
He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "That's why I love you, Sugarbutt."  
  
His words stopped her in her tracks. She reached out and cupped his face kissing him passionately. "We do suit each other, don't we?"  
  
"As far as I can see," he told her, his eyes only millimeters from her own, "you are rather perfect. Not too tall. Not too wicked, but just enough." He grinned again.  
  
She playfully slapped him. "I think I'll keep you then."  
  
"Oh yes, please, keep me," he wiggled against her. "Have you heard that song, 'Save a horse, ride a cowboy,' or something like that? Well, I am your cow boy."  
  
Again she slapped him. "What next?" she questioned. "Another drink? Music? See how your friend in the other room is doing?"  
  
"Friend?" He frowned, pulled up his sleeve, and looked at his watch. "The band should be in soon. Let's go hear some music."  
  
"Are they any good?" she questioned as they approached the private door. Once again the large man swept aside as Sands neared. When they entered the room, the vampire at the far end slunk down a little in his seat. "See, Agellon is happy to see you."  
  
"Yeah," Sands said. "You've probably heard of the band, they're Deadsy." He ignored Agellon as they went to Sands' private table and retook their seats.  
  
She raised her hand and the bar tendered looked up and nodded. Turning her attentions back to Sands she answered. "No, I don't think I've heard of them, I've been living in a cave you know." 


	47. The Private Office of Sheldon Jeffrey Sa

Night 5 part 3  
  
Forty-five minutes later, Sands was on his third drink and smiling at just about everything she said. Deadsy was taking a break and the hum of voices, the clinking of glasses, and the rusty smell of some sort of incense floated through the room. "Want to see my office?" Sands asked her.  
  
"Office?" She hadn't thought about him actually having an office.  
  
"Yeah. It's upstairs." He pointed heavenward.  
  
She smiled at him, feeling content for the first time in decades. "Lead the way," she said as she slid out of the booth. Standing she straighten her skirt and waited for him to rise, Sands lurched forward, catching his balance he laughed. His face lit up when he smiled.  
  
"Got to get my land legs," he joked, taking her hand and leading her towards the back of the club. They passed through the archway that, she could see, led to the bathrooms. To the right was another door. He placed his palm on a square of glass embedded into the wall and said, "It's S.J." The door hissed open. Beaming, he turned to her and gestured her to proceed him up the stairs she could see just beyond.  
  
"You have all the new toys don't you?" she questioned playfully impressed by the state of the art equipment with which he seemingly surrounded himself.  
  
Reaching for his hand she began to ascend the stairs. As the door shut behind them they were engulfed in silence. The sounds of the club left behind  
  
She stepped out into an almost surreal world. The entire front of the room was floor to ceiling glass, looking out on both the private and the front club. Very subdued lighting, not much brighter than candlelight, glowed soft. In his office, she realized, the windows were one-way mirrors.  
  
"You're a voyeur." she teased as she walked forward and pressed her palm against the glass. Victoria looked down at the scene below. She spotted Luther, Isabel, and Magdalena all still suffering from the effects of their encounter. The trio sat still, their expressions rather dreamy.  
  
Sands moved up behind her, encircling her waist with both hands. His lips moved against the back of her neck. "Not voyeur; good businessman. We have to watch out for kids sneaking in drugs or selling illegal goods." His breath was teasing against her skin as he spoke.  
  
His touch sent shivers down her spine. She leaned back into his embrace. "It may be for business, but this must be very entertaining."  
  
"How very observant of you," he pressed against her from behind, moving slightly back and forth to the faint sound of the beat rising through the floor. "It can be very enlightening."  
  
"I've made my way by keeping my eyes open." Victoria turned her head and tried to look him. "Your dancing?" her palms rubbed up against his forearms.  
  
He answered her by bending forward and catching her lips in a kiss. She twisted around, her back to the window. He pressed more firmly into her, his hands moving, one down to her belly, one up between her breasts.  
  
Victoria's eyes fluttered with pleasure at the sensation of his touch. How different the centuries would have been if he had been her sire. She eagerly responded to his kisses, her hands massaging his neck and entangling his long hair.  
  
His mouth moved against hers, his tongue invading her mouth, fencing with her own. His long-fingered hand continued down and around her leg, picking her thigh up, encouraging her to wrap it around his hips.  
  
Victoria followed his lead and raised her leg, sliding it slowly along his own muscular limb. When she reached his waistband, she wrapped it tightly around him. She pulled at the buttons of his shirt. The idea that she was leaning against a glass window excited her and her responces grew more passionate. Sands seemed to be thoroughly enjoying her eager attentions. His kisses grew more demanding, his hips pressing rhythmically against her, his finger moving to firmly hold her shoulder as he devoured her kisses. Her hands came up between them and gently she pushed him back. "Is there someplace we can continue this?" she asked between kisses.  
  
"No one can get in here without me allowing it," he breathed. "We're alone."  
  
Smiling she grabbed him and pulled him back into her body, her hips thrusting upward, her leg locking his own into place. He moved his hand up her thigh and under the opening of her silken panties. "These have got to go," he told her, his voice rough with passion.  
  
"So get rid of them," she responded with equal force and smiled wickedly.  
  
He wasted no time, ripping the delicate fabric and letting it fall to the floor. He tried to work the fastenings on his own pants, but he had to step backwards to accomplish that. His eyes searing into hers, he unhooked the top of his pants and pulled the zipper down.  
  
When Sands looked up, he saw that Victoria had pulled the fishnet top off over her head, and was shaking her hair loose. Throwing it to the floor, her eyes dropped and focused on the bulge in his pants. Over his shoulder she saw the outline of a velvet couch. The idea formed in her head. Running her tongue across her lower lip, she pushed him back across the room until the back of his legs bumped into the edge of the sofa and he fell onto it.  
  
"You don't like the window?" he asked her, his burning gaze still locked with hers.  
  
"I think I can do a better job here," she said seductively leaning over to tease his lips.  
  
"Take control then," he smiled lazily up at her, throwing his arms back against the couch.  
  
Straightening up, she placed her fists on the sides of her hips. "Lately I have to do all the work!" she protested.  
  
He raised his chin. "I was wounded in action. Besides, I was ready to do the work over there." He gestured with his gaze to the windows. "You chose the couch. Now you get to do all the work. I'll just sit here..." He smiled wickedly.  
  
She wanted him: he knew it. She sighed. Turning slowly she glanced back over to the window and began making her way across the floor.  
  
"What?" he sounded genuinely surprised. "You want the window?" He was behind her the moment she reached the glass. "You want me?" he growled.  
  
"Yes. . . " she growled back, as she pressed her body against the window, arms spread out wide from her sides. "I want you."  
  
Sands lifted her left leg up, letting her rest it across his hip as he used his free hand to move his clothes out of the way. His mouth found hers. His heated body moved against hers. She squirmed, reaching down to aid the process. "Yes, " she spoke in a half whisper as their bodies merged her head striking the cool glass behind her. Sparks rushed through her as he pressed up and into her.  
  
She closed her eyes, relishing the rushing sensations, the sounds of his passion, the feel of his body moving into hers, against hers. Her thoughts, her imagination, even her memory hadn't done justice to the real thing. It was pure delight, searing excitement. The cold hard glass pushed against her from behind while Sands, all heat and unleashed lust, covered her front.  
  
He moved as if he had known her for a thousand years, each motion unleashing more pleasure than the last.  
  
"You," she mumbled between waves of passion, "were right." Her fingers dug into his arms. "This is better." Victoria's leg tightened and Sands moved as if he could read the signs her body was sending him.  
  
She opened her eyes and saw him bearing his teeth as he moved into her, his head thrown back, his eyes closed. The sight of him gripped her as her own body thrust against his and a deep intense tingling began to tighten within.  
  
Victoria reached up to move the hair from her neck. "Bite me." she urged pulling him forward.  
  
This time, his growl was guttural as he lunged forward, his teeth digging into her hot flesh. She felt his pleasure being released into her own psyche and she gasped at the power of it. Her mouth was suddenly his mouth, her body his, and she could feel his pleasure at the joining with her, his pleasure at tasting her blood. It was almost too much for her to take. She trembled in a unrestrained orgasm. Her back arched against the immovable glass. Her fingers dug into the back of Sands' neck.  
  
Blood trickled from her fingertips, and her head felt light. His mind lay open to hers at that moment. Her eyes popped open. Filled with mixed emotions of pleasure and torment, she fought to shut him out. She wanted to be one with him, part of him, but did not want to invade his private thoughts. Only if he asked, she had told herself from the beginning.  
  
Images were swirling around her and tears filled her eyes as their bodies and minds merged. Wave after wave of insurmountable pleasure hit her.  
  
She gasped out his name, not sure if she was calling him in fulfillment or to beg for more. She slowly realized she wasn't reading his mind so much as he was forcing his emotions and physical sensations into her, filling her mind even as he gasped in release and she felt that, too.  
  
These sensations enveloped her with wonder and surprise. She had not experienced anything like this before. Feeling him climax within her she shuddered and felt as if she would expire from the pleasure. Her knees felt like buckling and she fought to remain up right. "Sands," she murmured with such devotion, with such joy, she shut her eyes not wanting this moment to end.  
  
His mouth moved against her ear. He breathed her name. Slowly, as their bodies stopped moving, her thoughts began to settle. "Did you like it?" he asked her.  
  
She leaned into his chest for support. "I've never felt anything like that, what did you do?" She lifted her head to look into his eyes, which were soft and glowing.  
  
"You know what we do to make thralls? I use that, but more." He made it sound simple, but she knew there had to be more to it.  
  
"Well," she paused her mind still reeling from the experience. "I guess I'm enthralled with you now." she lifted her chin to kiss his lips.  
  
As they parted he tilted his head to the side and looked at her. "Now, seriously, you know I can't enthrall you, right? I mean, you're your own person. It wasn't meant to..."  
  
She stopped him with her fingertips on his lips and a smile. "I know." 


	48. Sands, Abberline and the Problem

Day 6 Part 1  
  
Shouldering his bag as he exited his building, Sands saw the rented limo the doorman had hailed for him. He pulled his knit cap down and tossed the small carry-on into the back seat.  
  
Before he left the club just forty-five minutes earlier he'd gotten money and a passport in the name of Jeffrey Sheldon out of his safe. It was one of half a dozen passports he kept for emergencies. That and the wad of cash would allow him to leave no credit card trail.  
  
Now, as he got into the cab, he noticed the driver. The man wore a turban, full beard and mustache. His skin was dark, and he dressed in the type of clothes Sands associated with northern India. He'd known a few words of Hindi once upon a time, but he couldn't even recall "hello" now.  
  
"Kennedy," he said. He sat back as the cab pulled slowly out into the darkened, snow-clogged streets.  
  
Sands' chest was tight as he thought about leaving Victoria like that, with no real explanation. He turned his face to the wet windowpane, covering his mouth with his hand as he stared out at nothing.  
  
The motion of the limo pulled him back into focus. How long before she received the note? The privacy partition began to slide down, distracting his thoughts.  
  
"Excuse me sir?" the driver looked at him through the rear view mirror. His thick accent rolled across his tongue. "Traffic is very heavy, this could take a while." He arched his eyebrows awaiting a response.  
  
"Whatever," Sands sighed turning his head to gaze out the dark windows into the wet streets once more. He thought about how he would pass the time if Victoria was with him.  
  
Even though he sat almost still, he felt as if ants were crawling around inside his skin. He wanted to be with Victoria. He wanted to follow Abberline's wishes. Hell, he had to follow Abberline's wishes. The guy had saved his hide back there in Hungry. Leaning back, Sands reached into his inside coat pocket and pulled out tobacco and papers. Having a second thought he asked, "Can I smoke in here?"  
  
"Whatever you like, sir," the limo driver answered in a sing-song tone.  
  
Sands carefully tipped the leaves into the paper and then rolled the tobacco into a small thin cigarette. He pulled a lighter from his pocket, absently staring at it. Hell, he could always stop again.  
  
Lighting the cigarette, he inhaled deeply and felt himself relax just a bit. Fishing around, he discovered the ash tray and crossed his legs. He wasn't fond of flying and here he was, dashing through snowy streets at what?, ten miles per hour? It would take him quite a while to reach the airport. He pulled his carry-on over and unzipped it. Reaching inside he pulled out the book he had been trying to read for the past month and looked at the cover.  
  
"Tropic of Cancer." he spoke to the empty space. He frowned and tried to make himself comfortable and flipped opened the pages thumbing his way to the place he'd left off.  
  
He'd read the book a few decades ago when it first came out and it had seemed pretty rough and shocking then. Now it seemed more dated, but sill an interesting look at an era. He wondered why he'd started it again. Oh, yes, someone had been discussing it on a radio talk show. He sighed. Well, he could always pick up something, some mind-candy, at the airport gift shop.  
  
"Sir, we're in luck!" the driver exclaimed cheerfully, "the traffic is breaking up ahead. An accident slowed the roads."  
  
"Good," Sands smiled insincerely and nodded. The sooner this adventure began the sooner he could return. He took another long drag on the cigarette. Interesting though, Abberline's maker. Victoria will understand. Again his thoughts drifted to her.  
  
He tossed the book onto the seat of the limo. Let the next traveler read it. He took long drags on the cigarette, thinking of Victoria, remembering their evening and wishing he could have stayed to enjoy more if it with her. He recalled the scent of her, how her skin tasted against his tongue.  
  
The thoughts led his mind along paths of sensuous imaginings, more entertaining than Henry Miller. Soon they were at the international terminal. Sands got out, tipping the driver, grabbed his cases and headed for the Virgin Airlines counter.  
  
Abberline had said for Sands to try his new talent, he had already decided that he would only exercise that gift as a last resort. He really didn't what to stand for the 11 hour flight. As he approached the counter, Sands put on a dazzling smile and his full English charm.  
  
"Good morning, sir." The brown haired clerk inquired, "How can I be of assistance to you this morning?" She looked to be in her early forties. A golden ring was on her left ring-finger. Married, Sands thought absently as he removed his knit cap and ran fingers through his long hair.  
  
"Good morning. I would like a first class seat on the next flight to Heathrow." He handed over his passport, which he knew she would ask for. "No luggage. Just a carry-on."  
  
The clerk took his passport and began clicking away at the keys. "Oh sir, you're in luck," she smiled pleasantly. "We had a last minute cancellation. New York to Heathrow, non-stop leaving gate 26 in 30 minutes."  
  
Sands glanced at the clock. It was almost one a.m. The computer printed up his ticket. The clerk stamped his passport and handed both documents to him. He fished into his pockets and pulled out several hundred dollar bills. "Thank you sir, enjoy your flight."  
  
"Thank you." He slung his carry-on over his shoulder, then paused. "What is the film?"  
  
"You have a wide selection, sir," she told him with a smile that spoke of hours spent in the dentist's chair having her teeth whitened.  
  
"Oh, thank you." He didn't know what to say. He'd not traveled on Virgin in a while. Maybe he had better change that. A selection. Sounded more entertaining than a paperback from the gift shop.  
  
He walked briskly through the airport, navigating security with his wit and vampiric charm, reaching gate 26 just in time for the boarding call.  
  
Handing over his ticket, Sands flashed a brilliant smile at the male flight assistant who was taking tickets, took his ticket back, then proceeded onto the plane. The familiar smells of the airport assaulted his nose as he passed through the loading tube: diesel fuel and soggy carpet. He would be glad to get above these fumes.  
  
An underlying excitement trickled through Sands as he settled into first class. Air hissed from unseen vents. People murmured in soft tones as they settled in. A female flight attendant almost immediately appeared beside the armrest of Sands' plush seat. He looked up the length of her, half-expecting her to resemble Victoria with her long legs, but the face was merely pretty, not interesting. Not Victoria's face. "May I get you a drink, sir?" She flipped open a small menu with one hand. "Or a blanket?" He flashed a quick insincere smile. "Champagne and Red Bull, please. And I'd like to figure out how the movies work." Her gaze had locked with his as he spoke, and she seemed half mesmerized, even though he hadn't tried to control her. It was going to be a long flight. Six hours later, having taken the train from the airport to Victoria Station, then walking to his current location, Sands stood at the Starbucks's close to Earl's Court Station, looking at the selection of coffee mugs. He picked one up and read the front. "I've used up all my sick days, so I'm calling in DEAD." That tickled his funny bone. He decided to buy one for himself, one for Victoria and one for Andre. He had his own new mug filled with a dark Ethiopian coffee, then strolled out onto the sidewalk, his little, quickly-packed case over one shoulder. Abberline had said he would call, but so far the cell in Sands' inside coat pocket was silent, so he walked down the street toward a hotel he remembered, one that catered to tourists trying to save money. He'd stayed in the same hotel about twenty years earlier when he was sneaking his way through London. It was close to the subway. Very convenient. Going up the three steps into the old building, Sands found himself the only one standing at the desk. It took just a second for a older man wearing a badge identifying him as "Scott," to emerge from the office behind. Flashing his passport, Sands signed in, paid cash for three nights and told Scott he might stay longer. Scott was very polite, informing him of the free continental breakfast and handing over the key to a room on the second floor. Actually, it was the third floor, Sands adjusted to European way of counting floors as he climbed the stairs instead of taking the elevator. Make that lift. It was all coming back to him, after all, he mused, wasn't this the country of his birth? And death. Thinking of the mugs tucked into his satchel, he smiled. The key worked. It was an old-fashioned metal one, not one of those credit- card-looking ones. It gave Sands a sense of time standing still as he entered the room with its ten foot high ceilings, burgundy wallpaper, and thick curtains. It held three single beds, all his, and a bathroom with a huge tub with shower. That was what he wanted most right now. A long hot shower. His coffee was growing cold as he went into the bathroom and turned on the water. The pressure was pretty good for such an old hotel.   
The shower revived him, though he still felt like sleeping after the stress of the past day. He reached into his case and took out the recharger for his cell phone's battery and the adapter so he wouldn't fry it on the UK DC electrical plugs. Sands walked from the bathroom wrapped in a towel and went over to the bed. Plugging the adaptor and charger in, Sands carefully placed the phone into the charging cradle and laid down on top of the bed.   
  
Rain began to pelt lightly against the rooms two tall windows, lulling him to sleep. As his mind drifted away, he remembered Victoria up against the wall of glass. Was she missing him, he wondered.  
  
Something woke Sands from a sound sleep. He lay in the exact position he had fallen asleep in, which was normal for his kind. The towel around his hips was still damp, as was his hair. The room was much darker and colder. Looking at his watch and adjusting for the time change, he realized it was almost five p.m. What had woken him? A subtle sense of alarm fluttered along every nerve. He rose, suddenly wide awake. Moving with preternatural speed into the bathroom, he dressed and returned to the bedside to get his now fully- charged cell phone. He paused. The sound of many footfalls in the hallway caught his attention. His glance went to the door. He could detect the clear sounds of metal on metal. Someone was picking the lock. Someone was actually trying to break into his room. Someone with lots of friends. Focusing, Sands pulled in his thoughts, his sense of self, cloaking himself both mentally and physically from anyone who might enter the room. Silently he thanked Abberline for the gift of invisibility. He looked around, then began to climb. By the time the door quietly opened, Sans was balanced with both feet on the top of his bed's headboard, his hands grasping the molding, his body perfectly still. His vampiric shield made him invisible to all but a master. Almost twenty young vampires crowded into the room and began searching it, whispering to one another that "He must be here." The were oblivious to him perched on the headboard, as they charged, ducked, poked into the wardrobe, and even opened the window and leaned out. A chorus of curses erupted when they realized they could not find him. Their hatred and anger a tangible emotional wave hitting Sands. He was very glad he was hidden. A young vampire was easy to handle or even kill, but this many was another issue. He wasn't sure how he could handle this many. And why had they hunted him down? He studied their angry pale faces. They appeared to have been turned when they were between sixteen and perhaps twenty-five. They all dressed alike in black or red clothes, looking much like the patrons of his club, The Darkness. Why? Had they been frequenters of a similar club here in London and then all turned? But who would do such a monstrous thing? Questions buzzed through his mind as he stood statue-like, waiting for them to give up and leave his room. Anger began to burn in him, too. Anger at the intrusion. Anger at his inability to handle the little mob. And Anger at whomever had turned so many young ones. He felt the muscles in his jaw complain as he clenched it overlong. The strange vampiric brood was there for a good hour before they decided the vampire they were looking for wouldn't return while they waiting for him. In that hour Sands was able to study the group dynamics. The leader of the group wasn't the oldest looking. He looked perhaps 18, but the others all followed his lead. They called him Staker. Not promising, as far as Sands was concerned. Were they hunting older vampires in hopes of staking them? Staker's lieutenant was a young woman called Tamika. She spoke with a vaguely Caribbean accent overlaid with a London-English. She must have been away from the islands since her childhood. She was tall, model-good- looking, and brooked no arguments. She backed Staker up on everything he said. When Staker decided they might as well leave, she was the one to start for the door first. Sands didn't move for a while after they left. He just stood silent and still, making sure none of the youngsters had inherited the gift of invisibility, as he had.   
  
Once Sands decided it was probably safe, he still remained hidden. Again his inner sense of warning went off. Very quietly, his hotel room door moved open, then shut again. He never saw who did it. There were no footsteps. No one entered. But Sands sensed something. He stared into the room, his head tilted to the side as he listened intently, then suddenly, out of thin air, Abberline stepped toward him. "You've gotten very good, Sands," Abberline said. "I know you're here, but even I cannot see you." With a sense of relief, Sands allowed his shield to fall and he stepped down onto the bed. "What was that?" "Ah, you mean the hoard? That was why you have been called." Abberline flashed a very brief sad smile. "It's spreading, like a disease. My Master wishes to meet with you now." "Where?" Sands was ready to get out of the hotel room. It felt dirty now. "Right here." The voice was not Abberline's. Sands looked and saw suddenly standing next to Abberline was another vampire. This one appeared to be in his early twenties, two or three inches taller than Abberline, with foot-long straight black hair. He looked for all the world like he belonged on a surf board in California, except for the exotic tilt of his eyes, the plugs the size of pennies in his earlobes, and the sense of agelessness about him. Sands quickly decided that sense of agelessness was due to the extreme serenity that emanated from the slender tall vampire with the dark, almost Polynesian tan and soft smile. "Sir," Sands said, bowing. There was no doubt in his mind that this was Pao Ling, Abberline's Master, thus his Master. "I understand you like to be called Sands," Pao Ling said. "Call me Zack. That's the name I've been using most recently." "Yes, sir." Sands raised his eyes to look into Zack's. He'd never been near such an ancient powerful vampire before. Or had he? He suddenly realized he'd seen this young man before. Somewhere. His thoughts raced back. "We met," Sands finally managed. "In 1965. At one of Andre's parties. On Carnaby Street somewhere." "It's not a very long street," Zack said. "Yes. I remember you." His head leaned to the side as he studied Sands. "You reminded me of Abberline that night." "Of me?" Abberline sounded almost offended. "Your eyes." Zack suddenly folded down into a tailor's position on the floor. "Be seated, my children." The other two vampires immediately sat, forming a small triangle. "We have a threat to our kind," Zack said. "I wish you two to get to the bottom of it and stop it at its source. Once we have taken care of that, we can eliminate the problem." His gaze went from Abberline to Sands. "Of all the vampires I am related to, you two are probably the best equipped to handle this delicate situation. There is an ancient vampire turning dozens young humans. He or she does not train them. Does not teach them of our ways. They are simply turned and left to fend for themselves. They are usually frequenters of the Goth scene, which means they know something of our kind in a mythic, fantasy sense. They will expose us if something isn't done." Zack paused, looking from Sands to Abberline. "They are hunting for older vampires to teach them. Once they capture one, they take him to their hideouts, learn all they can, then drink him dry. This must end." "You foresaw this," Sands said softly, his gaze locking on Abberline. Abberline shrugged. "I foresaw there would be a need for you to receive the gift of hiding. I foresaw your abduction by Viscalli. I did not see that there would be...children involved." "So that's it, then?" Sands looked down at his hands. "We will find who is doing this and stop it. Then we have to kill all these young ones?" "There are too many." Zack's face took on an air of sorrow. "There is no other way. We don't turn this many in a century. Our mystery vampire has turned over a hundred in the past two weeks from Budapest to London. I think it must be an ancient one, because some of them have very strong powers for being so newly turned." He looked at Abberline. "They are prodigies like you were, my son." "Prodigies running like wild wolves," Abberline spoke thoughtfully. "Dangerous. I can think of no way to spare them. But I shall continue to think about it. First things first, we shall seek out their creator." He touched Zack's knee. "Have you any ideas about the one who is doing this?" Sands waited to hear the answer, leaning slightly forward. Zack's dark eyes rose to the ceiling. "All of us who are a few thousands years old can hide ourselves. You will have to seek out the trail. Do not confront him yourself. You will need me. Even together the two of you would not stand a chance again an ancient one." His eyes sparkled darkly. "We have powers you cannot imagine." Suddenly Sands wanted a cigarette very badly. 


	49. Victoria and Andre have a conversation

Day 6 part 2  
  
The cab slowly pulled up to the curb and the cabbie turned to address the sad looking girl in the back seat. "I'm sorry miss, this is as close as I can get with the snow and all." He frowned.  
  
Victoria turned her face towards the cabbie. He was and older man with a weathered face, someone who knew the city like the back of his hand. His mind was easy to read. He was a hard worker, an honest man who'd done this job most of his life and was content with it. She smiled at him and reached into her bag for a few bills.  
  
"How close are we?" she asked.  
  
"Two maybe three blocks," he replied as he tipped his hat and scratched at his balding head.  
  
"Close enough." she slid across the worn leather seat and handed him the bills.  
  
His eyes grew wide in disbelief. "Miss this is way too much!"  
  
"Keep it." Victoria patted his hand.  
  
"Thank you miss," he started fumbling for the door latch.  
  
"That's allright, I'll get it myself, you stay here and keep warm." Victoria stepped out onto the sidewalk. The sky was dark and foreboding. The storm had ceased, but clouds were ready to burst at any moment.  
  
Victoria closed the door of the cab, "Goodbye Eddie. Drive carefully, there are a lot of crazies out today." She smiled and walked away.  
  
"Hey how'd ya' know my name!" he shouted after her.  
  
Spinning around hands stuffed into her pockets to give the illusion of being cold, she called back, "You look like an Eddie!" and off she went. The snow was piled into deep drifts along the curbs. Judging by the size of the piles, it was going to be a cold winter. The two blocks passed quickly and soon Victoria found herself outside one of the ritziest salons in the city. Savage. Brushed steal, glass bocks and of all things bamboo fronted the location. It was costing Andre a fortune to replace the bamboo every morning. Victoria walked up to the steal door and swung it open, quickly stepping inside. Directly in front of the doors a few feet back sat a thin girl with beautiful hair and very trendy clothes, a phone glued to one ear. "No appointments open until next week," her voice sounded unfriendly.  
  
Victoria looked around unsure if the girl was addressing her or the person on the other end of the line. Victoria walked up to the desk and began unbuttoning her coat. As she approached the girls raised a finger in Victoria's direction, in a 'be with you in a moment' gesture and continued to banter with the party on the line.  
  
"Well I'm sorry if it's a hair emergency, but next week is the earliest appointment I have." The girl was clearly listening to the irate voice on the line and penciling in a name in her large black book. Setting down the telephone she turned her attentions to Victoria. "Do you have an appointment?" she questioned.  
  
"Oh sorts," she paused. "I'm here to see Andre."  
  
"Andre?" the girl questioned in a flippant tone.  
  
"Yes, " Victoria smiled pleasantly. "Could you tell him I'm here, Victoria Dupree." Reading the girl's mind Victoria could tell she had no intention of assisting her.  
  
"Take a seat please." the girl motioned to a set of overstuffed arm chairs.  
  
Victoria just looked at the girl, but let her mind wander until she found Andre. Speaking silently she teased him. "Andre, I'm here."  
  
"Victoria, I do have a receptionist, you know." he teased back.  
  
"I know, but she has no intention of letting you know I'm here. Could you come down and rescue you sugar?"  
  
"Well when you put it like that, how can I refuse. I'm on my way" Victoria turned and took a seat in one of the overstuffed armchairs and waited. The receptionist cast a few suspicious glances in her direction, which Victoria return with a nonchalant smile. Behind the girl was a plain pine door and several black and white photographs of very beautiful men and women. Victoria concentrated and could here the conversations of many humans emanating from behind them. Obviously this lead the way to the salon.  
  
Victoria sighed and ran her finger along the pattern of damask covering the chair. Soon the door opened and there stood the handsome and always impeccably dressed Andre Encantador, hairdresser to the rich and famous. Victoria beamed when she saw his dark eyes and gentle smile. He wore a very expensive Armani suit, gray with a faint cream colored pin stripe running through the weave, with a matching v-necked cream colored sweater beneath the sport coat.  
  
"Victoria!" he exclaimed as he outstretched his arms to greet her. Victoria stood and matched his embrace. He dramatically kissed her on both cheeks which she returned with equal enthusiasm.  
  
"Have you been waiting long my dear?" he questioned. Victoria's eyes dropped into a sad expression, indicating that she had in fact been kept waiting. Andre turned his dark eyes to the receptionist.  
  
"Marie! Why did you not inform me immediately that my good friend had arrived?" he frowned at her. The girl quickly began making plausible excuses. Andre waved dismissively. "Never keep this lady waiting again,"  
  
Andre turned and began to help Victoria from her coat. "Always admit her." folding her coat over his arm and then offering her his other arm he took her behind the pine door. The lighting was bright and the music was a trifle loud. Andre leaned down and whispered in her ear. "That's how they like it." he indicated to the customers and stylists. "It's all for image." he shrugged. "Let's retire to my office." Andre ushered her through the main floor which was a buzz with activity.  
  
"Is it always so busy?" Victoria asked.  
  
"When you're the best," he replied, obviously proud of his establishment.  
  
Reaching the rear of the establishment, Andre lead Victoria up a flight of modern stairs with a cable railing, to a second floor cat walk that appeared as if it wrapped around the entire interior.  
  
"Here's my home away from home," he indicated a door a few steps in front of the pair. Victoria smiled, Andre always seemed to be in a good mood. Just being around him lifted her spirits.  
  
Opening the door to the office, Victoria entered a very modern environment. The furniture was clearly all high end, Herman Miller, Charles Eames, a Noghchi table. The lighting was soft and the room was pleasant.  
  
"May I take your coat?" His velvet soft voice asked, as his hands lightly rested on her shoulders?  
  
"Andre," she nodded. "I bet you picked this all out yourself." She shrugged out of the heavy coat. "It's very nice."  
  
"I'm glad you like it. One must fine pleasure in the material world, too."  
  
"Too?" She turned, a brow raised.  
  
"My emotional world is very full. My mental world," he waved a hand, "brims overfull. My love life... Well, that fluctuates. But the material world will always be with us, constantly changing. People growing old around us. Buildings going up and falling down."  
  
Andre motioned for her to sit in front of the glass table where coffee was already waiting. Victoria nodded, "Yes, now that I am more or less unattached I have a project along those lines I intended on working on."  
  
"Unattached?" Andre echoed. He reached for the coffee pot and began to pour her a cup. "I think Sands may have a little something to say about that. Did he contact you?"  
  
"No, just the note." Victoria reached into her handbag and withdrew the small slip of paper. She exchanged it for the cup of coffee.  
  
Andre looked at the note. "He wrote in haste," he noted. "I know his regular style. He still retains some of the flash of ages past, the R's and such." He pursed his lips. "Something important has come up. I find it interesting that he and Abberline have disappeared at about the same time." His dark brown gaze met hers. "Don't you?"  
  
Victoria's eyes shifted quickly as she sipped the hot liquid. "Yes, those two are up to something." She set the cup down. "And I am angry with him for going. " She crossed her arms. "He could have told me where he was off to. I can keep secrets."  
  
Carefully, Andre poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down across from Victoria. He used small silver tongs to add two cubes of sugar to his cup. "Perhaps he was ordered to say nothing." His eyes stayed focused upon his coffee. "Or perhaps he felt it was too dangerous." Coffee-brown eyes now met her surprised glance. "He is like that, not willing to get others involved in his problems."  
  
"Well, I've only known him a short while, but I can tell that he would not let either one of us get away with that as an excuse." Unfolding her arms she reached for her coffee and took a long slow sip, thinking. "If I don't hear from him in two days then I'll be very concerned."  
  
"He can take care of himself, Victoria." Andre smiled. "You wouldn't believe half of what he's done."  
  
That was not the answer she wanted to hear. She wanted him to be as concerned as she truly was. Perhaps she would go to see Lilith. Victoria straightened up and changed the subject: "Andre," she paused, "how would someone make an appointment to see Abberline or Lilith?"  
  
He shrugged, looking a little surprised. "Just go. Or call. I don' t know about appointments. They are willing to see all clan members. Well, it's only Lilith at the moment." He grinned. "Apparently."  
  
The wheels were beginning to spin in her mind, her eyes widened. "And the library you were telling me about, what kinds of books are there?"  
  
"The sort you can't find most places. There are books about the history of our kind. Medical theories about how we function. How we heal. How we are hurt." He big the inside of his lip. "What are you looking for? Certainly not William Blake."  
  
Are there records?" she asked carefully fishing for answers  
  
"If there are records, I haven't looked for them, so I cannot tell you." He picked up his cup. "What sort of records? What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"  
  
She tilted her head to one side and smiled. "Does anyone keep track of our kind? You know what one would be up to." She leaned forward quickly putting her hand up. "And don't tell me about that awful tabloid. I mean a serious accounting."  
  
"Our history?" Andre's eyes narrowed. "I am not sure what you mean."  
  
"Well, Abberline and Lilith were aware of what Jacob had been up to, all the nasty things he'd been doing. Of course they didn't do anything about it, but they knew. So wouldn't it be safe to assume that somewhere there has to be a record of deeds?"  
  
"Oh." Andre settled back into his chair. "As his creator, Lilith always had a thread of connection with him. Have you ever created?"  
  
"No," she said quietly and dropped her eyes. "So there would be no books." Victoria was crestfallen. "Sands said there were books not out in the open, only for serious study."  
  
"You would need to go search for yourself," Andre told her. "I am not the person who would know. The books I have found there were the kind I have named. You would have to search to find out if there is more. If it is something classified, as it were, then maybe the Guardians can help. I wouldn't think that sensitive information would be just sitting on shelves." He flashed a quick smile. "Drink your coffee. It's getting cold."  
  
She smiled back and then took another sip. She would go to clan house and do some searching. Perhaps she could learn a little more about Sheldon Jeffery Sands, or more about her gift. Perhaps Lilith would know where Sands had gone. Her thoughts drifted again. "Andre, do you know a good lawyer?" she asked changing the subject once more.  
  
"Business or personal? Financial? Trust? Medical?"  
  
"Now that I am no longer required to hide in the shadows, I want my house back."  
  
He nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "Where is it, what country? What proof do you have that it's yours?"  
  
"It's here in the United States, Louisiana Territory. I have papers, deeds and such."  
  
"And how long ago did you lose this house?"  
  
She closed her eyes for a moment remembering the arrangements Claude had made when they left for France. Without opening her eyes she responded, "Before I was turned, 1725 to be exacted." Her eyes slowly opened. "Claude, my brother, had made certain stipulations so that the house would always remain in the family."  
  
Andre took a dramatic breath. "How would you claim it, my dear? You can't very well walk in and say you're a few hundred years old. Do you have some sort of proof you're a family descendant who was born in the 1970's? If not..." He shook his head.  
  
She laughed," That's why I need a lawyer." She took another sip of coffee. "But really now, could I just enthrall someone or something like that?"  
  
"It is not that easy. There would be a title search. That would go back to the first time the land was sold. You can't enthrall the entire country. I'm afraid if you want the house, you will have to buy it."  
  
"Now that's just unfair having to buy back what someone already rightfully owns!" she sighed. "Well perhaps when Sands gets back I'll drag him down south to see what the state of things is." A twinkle appeared in her eye. "Well then again if he doesn't come back maybe I'll see if I can convince any other handsome men I know if they feel like going on holiday." She winked at him across the table.  
  
"It would depend where down south," he told her, smiling. "And, if you haven't learned by now, dear Victoria, life is unfair. It's up to us to manipulate it to our advantage. Maybe you could enthrall the current owner to sell it to you for a dollar." He shrugged. "Now, what do you think of the latest fashions? I happen to love the spring line coming out of Milan."  
  
A smile quickly spread across her face. Andre had caught her off guard with the change of topics. "Milan?" she questioned her eyebrow arching delicately. "You know I have always had a preference for the French designers myself."  
  
"My mother was French," Andre said pleasantly. "Why do you prefer the French?"  
  
"Because I'm a Creole and France is the mother country of all of us from the Bayou. Although my mother was an Englishwoman." Victoria set down her cup and settled back along the couch, swinging her long legs up beside her comfortably. "But really Andre what's so great about the Italians ?"  
  
His hansom face lit up. Leaning forward, he spoke with enthusiasm. "The Italians dare things that are ridiculous, like some of the British experimenters, but simply divine. The colors. The textures. And there happens to be a young designer I have my eye on." He smiled suggestively.  
  
Victoria tossed her head back and laughed. "If you like to experiment, then you should like the Japanese. Those are some daring designs."  
  
He shrugged. "Not much to my taste." He looked at the gray sky outside the floor to ceiling window. "I do like a fine suit. Armani. I've been every type of artist except a fashion designer." He fingered the handle of his cup thoughtfully. "Victoria, I get the impression that you have not had much experience, despite your age." He looked quickly up. "I hope that didn't sound rude or too prying. I just have to wonder."  
  
"What kind of experience are you inquiring about?" she questioned as she smoothed the hem of her skirt. She was making an attempt to not be alarmed.  
  
"In the world. Your talk about the house." He shrugged. "I don't really know where you have been, what your life has been like, or even exactly when and where you were turned. We always seem to talk about me or...Sands."  
  
Andre watched as her eyes narrowed. It was such a slight movement, the kind only a vampire would have been able to detect. "I've been living in a cave, or at least that's what Sands also says to me," a faint smile appeared.  
  
"How charming." His expression was deadpan.  
  
"Oh Andre," she teased, "You don't really think I've been living in a cave do you?"  
  
"No, I mean what Sands said. He has a way with words. Where have you been living, darling?" He lifted his cup. "Certainly not here in Manhattan?"  
  
Victoria looked into his eyes. She thought for a moment about the man before her and his relationship to Sands. If he trusted Andre then perhaps she could also. "This is not something I usually speak about. One does not live a long life by letting everyone in on ones secrets."  
  
He sat patiently, allowing her time to tell her story, a very slight smile on his full lips.  
  
"I have lived in cave," she paused again looking intently into his eyes before continuing. "I've also lived with gypsies, and with crime lords and counts. My last address was Paris, that was two months ago. I left quickly when Jacob's spies tracked me down again. You see Andre," Victoria leaned slightly forward," In 1825 I deiceded to kill my maker and I have been on the run from him ever since." Victoria waited to see how he would react to her statement.  
  
He reached across to touch her hand. "No longer. He's dead now." He sat back. "So how is it that you became involved with such a, "he searched for the right word, "jerk?"  
  
Victoria was stunned by Andre's response. He was so kind, she relaxed. "I've given the subject a lot of thought. Perhaps he used his skills as a vampire to enthrall me. Perhaps I was a young silly girl, perhaps . . .I loved him once," her voice shook a little.  
  
"We were all young and silly once," he said kindly. "Believe it or not, even me." He grinned broadly. Lowering his voice and leaning towards her he added, "Rumor has it, even Sands was young and silly once. But don't tell him I told you so."  
  
Victoria suddenly laughed and then covered her mouth in surprise. "Andre you're lovely." she stated and then giggle a little more.  
  
He tossed his long hair back saying, "So I've been told."  
  
"Andre?" Victoria cupped her hands in her lap. "I miss him."  
  
He looked genuinely surprised. "Sands? After only a few hours?" He shook his head. "This sounds serious. Are you sure you're ready for serious?"  
  
She looked at him without answering, she wasn't sure she knew the answer to that question. When Sands was with her there was no doubt in her mind. She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to imagine what life would be like if she walked away from this city and never came back. She tried to image the look on Sands face if he received a note like the one he had left her. Opening her eyes she found Andre warm smile awaiting an answer. "Yes, I think I am." 


	50. Victoria is surprised

Day 6 part 3 Victoria thoroughly enjoyed her afternoon with Andre, both the coffee and conversation were excellent. However, when she left Savage Salon she felt no closer to finding Sands or answers to her many other questions. Stepping out into the cold Manhattan winter, she decided she would walk home. The cool, night air against her cheeks was refreshing and the walk would help her plot her next move. Andre seemed reluctant to advice her and was confused by her ignorance of vampire issues in general. She sighed, it looked as if she may be alone on this one. Well that was nothing new, after all most of the time she was alone. But the companionship she had experienced over the last six days had been refreshing. It was nice to share her burdens with others.  
  
The street was beginning to fill with workers leaving their offices. The five o'clock rush was on and dusk was rapidly approaching. Walking for several blocks Victoria smiled as the street lamps flickered on one by one. She used to enjoy watching the scruffy lamplighters make there rounds throughout the city bringing the night to life. Victoria cast a glance skyward. There was a heavy cloud cover tonight, but occasionally a break in the clouds revealed the bright luminous glow of a full moon. Suddenly Victoria stopped and lifted her nose ever so slightly. She had caught the scent of something close by, something familiar and dangerous. The streets were emptying quickly as the snow once again began to fall. Her eyes narrowed as she turned her head to the right. Werewolf! What had she been thinking? Of course they would be out tonight and she should be safely sequestered behind locked doors, sipping wine and reading a good book.  
  
She reached for her shoulder holster, but nothing was there! Damn, she didn't have her gun! In fact she didn't have any defense with her.  
  
Thinking quickly she stepped out to the curb to hail a cab. But none could be seen. Her pulse began to race as the scent drew closer, only a few blocks away now and closing quickly. Victoria continued scanning the streets looking for a cab. A long black limo pulled up splashing snow across her feet. The window rolled down. It was Quinn, the long red haired guardian she had met a few days ago.  
  
"Quick get in!" he flicked his head to the rear door and his eyes quickly returned to the rear view mirror. There was no time to argue, the beast was closing, every inch of her being felt it! Feeling relieved and puzzled at his timely appearance she did as he commanded.  
  
As soon as she shut the door, she heard the door locks engage and he sped off. This alarmed Victoria in new ways as she was tossed about with the movement of the vehicle.  
  
"That was a little close," Quinn yelled back. "Are you all right?" he asked across the lowered privacy shield.  
  
Victoria crawled along the smooth leather seats to speak to her rescuer. Setting herself down she leaned her arm over the partition between them. "Where did you come from?" she snapped. Victoria saw a slight smile appear across his lips. Quinn's eyes shifted between the street and the mirror.  
  
"That was close. Luckily I found you in time. I bet you didn't remember to pack your weapon today." he artfully avoided her question. "Why were you looking for me?" Victoria question again her pulse still racing, Jacob Connor McLeod's words echoing through her memories. "You can never trust any of them. They'll always seek ways to do ya in. That's how it is with our kind luv. Remember what I'm saying to ya, you can never trust any of them." His words were driven away but Quinn's response.  
  
"Lilith wants to see you," he said flatly. "She sent me to pick you up."  
  
Victoria scanned his mind. She could do this quite easily and the person would be none the wiser. Only some one of similar gifts would detect the intrusion. He was telling the truth.  
  
"So are you taking me to the clan house?" she asked beginning to settle.  
  
Quinn silently nodded a response. Victoria leaned back and folded her arms and begin to calculate her next move. 


	51. Victoria and Lilith have a meeting

Day 6 part 4

The limo slipped silently along the darkening roads. Victoria shut her  
eyes to gather her thoughts. It had taken at least an hour to reach clan  
house the other night, but the weather had been poor. Why did Lilith want to see her? Had Lilith been tracking her thoughts? Victoria had not felt any intrusion, but then again would she? Lilith was much more powerful.

This put Victoria on guard, she frowned and opened her eyes. "MacGregor?" she inquired.

"Yes?" his lower jaw turned slightly in her direction and she caught a glimpse of his very blue eyes. French Blue, she thought."Don't take the front entrance, I couldn't bare walking through all the  
crowds this evening.""Crowds?" The was slight confusion in his voice, "Oh, Victoria,  
there won't be crowds there this time of day. The one time you came, it  
was during a get-together. It's still early, nothing on the schedule. It  
will be deserted, except for those who live there and the Guardians."Victoria's demeanor changed, relived by this news. Good, she thought, I don't like to be stared at by those catty women. Especially that Cerese, who would certainly comment if Victoria came in alone. "MacGregor, I'm going to need another weapon, I misplaced the other." She smiled playfully at his reflection in the rear view mirror."You what?" She saw his shoulders stiffen. "You lost the gun we gave you?" There was a tone of alarm in his voice. His fingers tightening around the wheel."Well no, not exactly." Victoria replied quietly once again leaning  
forward. "Sands has it."MacGregor seemed to relax. "Where is Mr. Front Page tonight?"Victoria looked at those blue eyes through the rear view mirror for a moment before answering. "Don't know," she said nonchalantly, "He had a errand to run."The car made a wide right and began to drive up the ramp onto the  
expressway. Looking forward, Victoria could see the twin beams of the  
headlights cutting through a lightly falling snow that was blowing  
slightly to the side. It would be another cold night.Sighing, she sat back and began to think how different her life had been  
in the last week.Well not that different apart from the constantly being shot at. After  
all, she spent almost her entire vampiric life on the run. She had become  
very adept at hiding and slipping from place to place. But that was behind her now. Now she would settle down, rebuild her life, enjoy her death. A faint smile appeared at the corner of her lips. Sands would have liked that thought.Time passed quickly, and before she knew it the limo was headed up the  
long drive to the clan house. Victoria became unsettled once again as the  
limo came to a stop in front of the grand entrance. Victoria was slightly  
afraid of Lilith, hell she was slightly afraid of all of them.MacGregor got out of the limo and darted to the other side to see if she needed help, but Victoria was already opening the door, one long, shapely leg coming into view. He smiled and stuffed the keys into his pocket."If you'll come with me, I will take you directly to her," he said,  
gesturing toward the front door. He began walking and then turned his head to the side, a strand of red hair falling into his eyes. "Jackson is doing very well." MacGregor paused, "Just thought you'd like to know."Victoria turned when he mentioned Jackson. "I supposed he has been  
enthralled again, by Debbie wasn't it?" her eyebrow arched with interest.

"I wouldn't know," MacGregor said. "I don't think anything has changed. "He walked beside her up the stone steps, which had obviously been recently swept. The snow was falling more steadily now, but the steps were almost completely clean.

"I know Klein is asking to remain in Sands' service, but I don't think he  
knows what he might be in for. Besides, Sands is historically not fond of  
having thralls, and I don't think he's ever had male thralls unless he  
needed them for a mission." MacGregor pulled the front door open for her and waited while she walked inside, then he followed.

"Hum," Victoria snorted, catching the hidden meaning in that last bit of  
information. Her eyes scanned the great hall. Her thoughts drifted  
searching for Jackson. Victoria liked Jackson, liked the attention he  
lavished on her, and especially liked the way Sands reacted to the attention, oh he was dangerous, she knew that. Given the opportunity Jackson would most certainly drink from her to obtain what he wanted; immortality.

"Do you think I could see him? As long as I'm here and all." She gave  
MacGregor an enigmatic smile.

"Jackson? He's in the infirmary. You'll need to meet with Lilith first. No  
doubt she knows you are here and is waiting for you." Quinn gestured toward the side hallway where Victoria remembered there was a small elevator."Will you be taking me up then?" she asked.MacGregor pushed the elevator's button and the door slid open. "No, dear,  
yours is a private meeting." He flashed a very brief smile. "I'll tell the infirmary you might drop by. Later. Good night." He stood, waiting for her to board the elevator.Victoria felt the rug pulled out beneath her. "Very well then. Thank you  
for fetching me."She stepped into the small elevator. "I'll come down later for that new  
weapon." She winked as the doors slid shut. When she was alone she leaned heavily against the wood paneling. "God Sands, where are you? How could you leave me alone to face her?" She sighed deeply. Well she would have to do this on her own wouldn't she? Victoria stood tall and straightened her long coat.

The elevator's door slid almost soundlessly open. The hall before Victoria  
was darkened. It's hardwood floor still managed to shine from the faint  
light filtering down the hallway. Music gently spilled into the corridor, a quartet playing something baroque.

Following the light and music, Victoria was aware of the sound of her  
boot heels on the floor echoing off the paneled walls. Paintings hung on  
either side of her, all pastoral scenes, no portraits. She wondered for a  
brief moment if Lilith ever had her portrait done. Of course she had, Victoria concluded. No one that lovely could have escaped without  
be immortalized on canvas.

Soon she was at the end of the corridor. For a moment Victoria stood  
outside the heavy wooden door of Abberline's office and listened. She had been here before. Victoria unbuttoned her coat and unknotted her scarf, preparing herself for what ever might await her. She knocked.

"Enter, Victoria," Lilith's voice called from behind the door.Holding her head up, calling on all her Southern Belle reserves, Victoria  
pulled down on the latch and entered.The room was softly lit and the dark wood paneling gave the room an old  
world charm. Lilith was seated behind the large mahogany desk that  
Abberline occupied only a few days before.Victoria stepped into the room quietly and shut the door. In the brief  
moment her back was turned she was aware of Lilith's dark eyes staring intensely at her."Thank you for coming," Lilith said. Victoria looked back at her as she  
turned around. Lilith was dressed in a soft yellow dress that looked like  
vintage Chanel. She graced Victoria with a smile and gestured for her to  
take a seat. Everything about her was perfect. The curls in her hair, the texture of her skin, even the perfume she wore suited her beautifully. How could any man resist her?Victoria nodded and smiled pleasantly. "Not at all. Do you mind if I  
remove my coat?" she asked stalling for time."Make yourself comfortable," Lilith replied. "I hope you had an enjoyable  
ride? MacGregor can be good company."Victoria removed the long tan car coat and then the Burberry scarf, laying the garment over the arm of one of the two chairs set in front of Lilith's desk. "Yes, thank you for sending the limo. I wasn't having much luck hailing a cab." She smiled and then sat down. She hoped she looked calm, inside she was a bundle of nerves."Hailing a cab?" Lilith asked. "You were out in this storm?"Victoria returned Lilith's questioning gaze. "Yes, I was out for a walk.  
Organizing my thoughts, you might say."Lilith smiled at her. "Have you found others who have our gift?"For a moment Victoria was caught off guard by the direct nature of  
Lilith's inquiry. "Pardon me?"Lilith laughed lightly. "You heard me, my dear. You discovered you were  
not alone in your gift. Haven't you been curious to find others who share  
it?"Victoria thought she saw a faint smile forming in the corner of Lilith's red  
lips. Victoria smiled briefly. "Yes, a little.""Let me guess." Lilith sat back. "Sands has discovered your gift and is  
very curious and a little paranoid."A small laugh escaped from Victoria, "Yes." She decided to keep her answer brief to see where this conversation might be going. After all it was highly unlikely that Lilith sent a limo to pick her up just for a nice  
chat and a cup of tea."My Frederick still is not sure. We must not let the men know everything  
about us. The feminine mystique must remain." The soft light in the room flattered Lilith's delicate features. "Don't tell him everything. Keep him guessing." Lilith's gaze went up and to the right. "He loves a challenge."

A surge of resentment, perhaps jealousy rose inside Victoria's chest.  
"It might be a little late for that," Victoria paused, "but I know that I  
can trust him."

"You mean you told him everything?" Lilith had a slight pout to her  
expression."No, not exactly." she folded her hands in her lap becoming increasingly  
uneasy by the line of questioning. "He knows that I can hear peoples'  
thoughts.""Victoria, the trick is never to tell a man more than he needs to know.  
Especially Sands." She smiled as if in memory. "He loves the search, the  
quest. He has the instincts of a great detective. Like Frederick." She  
paused. "Which is one of the reasons I called you here."Victoria flushed. Was Lilith reminding her that she had Sands first?  
She didn't like to be scolded and didn't care for the smile that echoed across Lilith's face. Another wave of jealousy crashed through her body. "I'm not a fool you know. I managed to keep myself alive for the past 180 years while Jacob hunted me across the globe. I know how to be cautious, and clever."Lilith's gaze locked on hers. "I did not call you a fool, Victoria. I'm just suggesting a way for you to enjoy your relationship with Sands on  
another level. He's quite brilliant in his own way and he needs constant  
stimulation to remain entertained."It was what Lilith didn't say that made Victoria wonder. She never asked  
Sands why he and Lilith had stopped their love affair. Perhaps she should, but then again everyone deserved their privacy.

Victoria narrowed her eyes, watching Lilith very closely, regaining her composure. "I know you have the gift and I know that Viscalli has the gift. Other than the two of you, I have never encountered any human or vampire that had this ability. " She paused. "Although for some time I have operated under the misguided perception that all vampires carried this ability. It was Sands that informed me that this was not true."

Lilith's pale blond head inclined. "He is correct. Very few of us have it,  
thought it is a gift that can be passed along with intention. Obviously, one must be very careful to whom one passes it.""Then how did I obtain the gift?" Victoria leaned slightly forward turning her green eyes intensely to Lilith. "Jacob never possessed this ability?""Not to my knowledge. You must have had it as a human and it came to the fore when your life was threatened. That happens. Serve trauma can release power." Lilith adjusted her position. She looked as if she had made up her mind. "Let me tell you why I asked you here. I assume you know it was not just for the pleasure of your company, though I do enjoy you. You have a fresh air quality about you, Victoria." Lilith smiled.Victoria batted her eyelashes in surprise. This revelation astounded her.  
She had only seen Lilith as a rival. "Do you know where Sands has gone?" she suddenly blurted out.

"I expect he has met up with my Frederick," Lilith said in an even tone.  
"He disappeared when we went to Hungary and has not resurfaced. He has successfully blocked my ability to locate him, as has Sands." She leaned forward. "A male conspiracy of sorts." She let her words sink in, as she tapped a well manicured red finger nail on the mahogany desk top. "I need a female detective, Victoria. How would you like the job?"

"Me?" Victoria leaned closer setting her elbows and forearms on the desk  
between them. "Spy for you?""For us."Victoria smiled. "Spy on them?"Lilith rose. "I am concerned about Frederick and now that I have learned  
Sands left rather suddenly, about him, too. Frederick is not one to play  
games." She walked around the desk to stand closer to Victoria. "There  
must be some threat to our clan, to me, something to make him leave home. He detests traveling.""What do you think I can do for you?" Victoria asked bluntly."You can read the minds of the others. Find out who has seen them. You can make sure they are safe." Lilith sighed. "I had a call from someone I  
trust implicitly. She tells me there are strange things happening in  
Europe." Lilith's blue eyes turned to Victoria. "She tells me she thinks  
she saw Sands this morning.""Where?" Victoria asked eagerly."London.""So you want me to go to London and see if the boys are all right? Then  
what?" Victoria's mind raced; if Sands was in London, if he was in danger. She felt her face flush with anger. He could have told her where he was going, he could have trusted her. But then again maybe he really did not. Perhaps her trust, her feelings were all one way."Frederick and Sands both share an archaic sense of chivalry," Lilith's  
words interrupted Victoria's thoughts. "They still see women as frail,  
fragile and weak. I'm sure they, in their own minds, are protecting us. I  
think it is up to us, as the stronger sex, to watch over them. What do you  
think?"Victoria thought for a moment. She was strong. She had survived centuries of pain, torture and humiliation, she was strong. She nodded, "All right, tell me what you want me to do."

Lilith shared a conspiratorial smile with her. "My pleasure."

13


	52. Sands and Abberline go shopping

Day 6 part 5

Sands was aware of Abberline's discomfort and had a difficult time hiding his amusement. The clan's namesake was at the moment looking with distaste at the clothes rack, his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed. They stood a few feet apart in a trendy West Side boutique which catered to male and female tastes. There was the distinctively strong smell of leather, bus exhaust, patchouli incense, and of course humans. Without turning his head, Sands knew which of the women behind him was having her time of the month. He resisted the urge to turn around and entice her into a fitting room for a quick bite.

"Find anything you like?" Sands ventured as he moved closer to Abberline.

Frederick causally looked over to Sands, the look controlled. He was obviously not pleased with the selection, Sands thought "No, not really." Frederick flipped a few more hangers across the metal ring that held the garments, the noise repeated by the three women behind them also shifting through hangers. "People actually like these sorts of garments do they?"

As Sands moved even closer, he could see Abberline was scowling at a pair of leather pants. Sands found the smell of the new leather actually pleasant. For a brief moment he thought of his leather couch at home and what he and Victoria had been doing on it. Regret was quickly pressed down as he addressed Abberline. "Well, you see, everything has to be dark and sensuous, therefore a lot of leather. Or Pleather for those who can't afford or chose not to wear the real thing You need to get into the mind of these goth club goers. In their fantasy, vampires always wear black," Sands continued.

"So I assumed." Abberline gave him a pointed look, eyeing Sands' wardrobe. "But I can't help but wonder where they got that idea," he said, his words dripping with sarcasm.

"And leather, spiked collars and all that, it's just the punk way. Left-over from the sixties," Sands finished his thought.

Abberline folded his arms. "Well then, since you are the expert in this matter, you pick out the attire." His dark eyebrows rose in a look of surprise, his gaze clearly on an object over Sands' left shoulder. Sands turned to look at rack of piercing jewelry. A smirk spread across his lips.

"Unless you had holes before you were turned," he said under his breath, "I'm afraid they won't work on you." He grinned. "Lucky for me, I had my ears pierced. Was a fashion at the time. I talked a Duchess into buying me an incredibly expensive pearl earring once." Sands looked down at Abberline. "We're about the same size. I'll find you something. Leather, right?"

"If that is what will help us blend in, but you will not mention this to anyone." Frederick said the last in a very hushed voice. He pointed his finger firmly in Sands' direction. "I'll go pick out some foot ware." He looked decidedly unhappy, the corners of his mouth set in determination as he passed Sands' shoulder heading for the wall containing boots and shoes.

It was all Sands could do to hold back a gleefully wicked smile. He pulled out leather pants, then went to the shirt rack and found a dark burgundy silk shirt. For himself, he found black jeans and a black turtleneck. Carrying the clothes over one arm, Sands wandered down to the coats. Long black leather for both of them. They'd say they were brothers, he decided. Of course, Abberline would be the elder, since he obviously looked older. Turning, Sands looked around and spied Abberline holding a pair of heavily soled black boots with buckles up one side. The clan leader's expression was one of puzzlement.

Sands snickered. He was enjoying himself. Next he headed towards a rack of spiked and studded belts and, after selecting a few, headed over to Abberline.

Frederick sat on a small bench pulling on the boots with the buckles.

"Honestly, I can't believe people choose to wear these things," Abberline said under his breath. "I'm sorry. I have to draw the line somewhere. These look like something Boris Karloff wore in 'Frankenstein. What is the point of all these buckles anyway? They just make noise.'"

Sands let out a laugh. "Humans don't hear that often. Too much ambient sounds. Maybe they want to look like Frankenstein's monster, who knows? Now take a look at these." Sands held out the garments for Abberline to look over.

Frederick's brow wrinkled. "Sands, you can't tell me this is what they think we're like?" he questioned earnestly. "Are we all utterly shallow to them?"

"No, we're fantasy, not real. Well, a few believe. Try them on." Sands gestured with a nod of his head toward the fitting rooms. "I agree, though, those boots are a lost cause. Have you ever worn western boots?"

"You must be kidding," Abberline stood, carefully setting the ugly boots down on the chair beside him. "Cowboy boots? What do you think I am?" Abberline grabbed for the clothes that Sands held out for him and stormed off in the direction of the fitting rooms.

"No seriously, I think you'll like them better." Sands called after him. "I'll go pick out a collar for you."

Abberline stopped dead in his tracks and turn around to glower at Sands. "Listen," Abberline closed the distance between them until they were almost nose to nose. "No collars. I am willing to go to great lengths to go undercover for this operation, but not collars. No." He straightened, looking every inch the English gentleman. "One must draw the line somewhere." With that he turned and walked back into the fitting rooms.

Before Sands could move, a petite very young sales woman appeared at his elbow. Her hair was an unnatural red on tope and black on the bottom. She had almost white facial makeup on, loads of jet black eyeliner and mascara, and her t-shirt had a bat and castle motif on it that read: "What happens in Transylvania stays in Transylvania."

"Are you finding everything you need?" she asked in a very Cockney accent, her eyes going up and down the length of him. She smiled.

"Yes, thank you." he replied taking a small step back. The girl stepped forward. "Are you sure?" she question and flicked the stud in her tongue against her teeth.

Sands looked down at her name badge. "Yes, thank you Darling. Tell me, where can my brother and I get some decent fun around here? We've been living in Argentina for three years and we're out of touch, you see."

She smiled and turned toward the counter, bending a finger, beckoning him to follow. He did. Once there she reached behind the glass display case and pulled a flyer off the wall and handed it to him. "Here, this place is the best! Best bands, best hook-ups, best everything." once again her eyes were glued to him and she was flicking her tongue-stud against her teeth and lips. A habit, he assumed. She must have been all of seventeen.

Studying the flyer, Sands ignored the young sales woman for a moment. It advertised the "Fang and Flyers Club." Sands shifted the clothes he still held from one arm to the other, then laid them on the counter. "Hold these for me." His eyes met hers as he held up the flyer. "Can I keep this?"

"Definitely. And I'll hold these items for you also." She pulled the clothes off the glass display case and put them on the back counter. Sands turned and rushed back to the dressing room Abberline had entered.

"How ya doing, boss?" he asked playfully.

"Well, the fit is good, but this is just not what I'm used to." The curtain slid back and Abberline stood there wearing the burgundy shirt and black leather pants. "I guess one costume is as good as another. And don't call me boss. Our cover is brothers, remember?"

"You look quite the vampire," Sands assured him, "though rather on the romantic side. I suggest you shave off your moustache. It's not the in thing for vampires in clubs."

"What?"

"Shave. Your moustache."

"I heard you. But why?" Abberline's dark brown eyes were wide.

"They think we can't grow beards, you see," Sands whispered. "It's part of the legend. They don't understand the whole come as you died thing."

Abberline ran his fingers against his moustache. "It'll grow back." Sands urged.

"Do you know how disappointed Lilith's is going to be?"

This statement surprised Sands and turned his thought momentarily to Victoria. Then to Lilith. Women were such lovely complications.

Unaware of Sands' inner musing, Abberline continued. "I guess there's no help for it then. Yes, it does grow back. Very quickly. I will have to shave often." He stopped suddenly, his head up, his eyes suddenly looking far away. "In your time, no one had facial hair much, did they?"

"What?" Sands asked, looking around for an explanation.

Instead of answering, Abberline's look became softer, his eyes closing, and silence lay between them. Something told Sands not to ask questions.

"It's him," Abberline said. "He wanted me to ask you." Abberline's eyes blinked and he focused on Sands. "Do you dream?"

"What?" Sands was baffled.

"Do you dream?" Abberline asked plainly, "You know when you sleep?"

Sands blinked. "Yes, always," he responded still puzzled.

There was a moment's silence as Abberline apparently communicated with Zack. "He just wondered. The older you get, the more your dreams will become just replays of your memories," Abberline told Sands. "I dream, too. My master does not. He lives in his memories."

"Fascinating," Sands said, not sure if Abberline was pulling his leg or not. He decided not.

"The older we get, the more memories we have, obviously, and to keep them, our brains begin to take us there when we sleep. You and I must be too young to do this," Abberline continued as if he was talking about something mundane. "Of course, you were turned, what, in the late 17th century? You're a good 200 years my senior."

"I don't think anyone I know does not dream," Sands told him. "Even Lilith, and she is older than either of us."

"Yes, which proves we must be well over two thousand years old before we stop dreaming." Abberline looked down at his clothes. "I guess it will be dark in these clubs." It was half statement, half question.

"Always is, "Sands quipped before quickly changing the subject. "I think I have a lead for us," he said proudly holding up the flyer for inspection.

"Fine. You still need to try on your clothes, Sands."

"No I don't," he smiled slyly. "I have the same ones, same brands even at home. Global economy and all, you know."

Abberline looked at Sands' empty hands. "What outfit?"

"They're holding it for me." Sands looked toward the sales counter. The sales woman with the two-tone hair was watching him, even though the three customers were getting closer to the check out counter. She smiled as she saw him look her way.

"I want to see your clothes," Abberline demanded.

Sands opened his mouth. "You don't trust me?"

"If yours are better, we're swapping."

Sands laughed and put up his hands in defeat. "All right, all right." He turned and headed to the counter. "Excuse moi, Darling, can I have those clothes? My brother insists that I try them on." He leaned forward to collect the items. "He's a bit of a stick in the mud."

The sales woman looked over at Abberline, who stood wearing the clothes he was trying on. "Oh, nice stick in the mud," she said wistfully. "I see the resemblance."

"You do?" Sands frowned.

Abberline, who could hear the entire conversation with his vampire-enhanced hearing, smiled. Sands rolled his eyes and returned to the fitting room. "In," Abberline pointed.

Sands dutifully went in and put on the black jeans and turtleneck, then came out to show Abberline.

"They look pretty normal to me," Abberline said, "In fact, they look like what you pretty much wear every time you're over." He folded his arms. "You can keep the pants, butt you have to find a different shirt." He turned his head and searched the room. A smile appeared as his eyes fixed on an object. Abberline turned and went to a near by rack. He quickly returned carry a black shirt made entirely out of black fishnet and sheer black material with lacing up the front. "This will be better." Abberline handed the garment over to Sands.

"Since when did you become the goth expert here?" Sands asked.

"I'm not," he said pleasantly, "I just don't want you looking better then me." He smiled.

Sands took the shirt. "Even in this, I will look better. It comes with my the package and, of course, my innate sense of class."

"Which is why I moved to America," Abberline told him, "to escape the old class system. We're all equal in America. Except me, of course, being special." Frederick smiled, as if he had told a joke.

"Special?" Sands asked, not following Abberline's line of thought.

"In that for thousands of years my master turned no one, then he chose me. That sort of special."

"Humm," Sands grumbled and retreated into the fitting room. He returned wearing the sheer black and fishnet shirt his hands out to both sides. "See, I look still look better."

"I will not encourage you," Abberline said. He had donned the long leather coat Sands had set aside for him. "But we shall dazzle them, laddie."

Sands smiled. "Then lets get started." He returning into the fitting room and gathered their original garments and followed Abberline to the cash register.

"No clunky boots," Abberline told him as he arrived.

"Agreed," Sands nodded. "You're paying."

Abberline rolled his eyes. "Fine."

11


	53. Victoria takes a little trip

Day 6 part 6

"So it's agreed then, you'll leave in the morning." Lilith folded the piece of parchment she had been scribbling on and placed into a matching envelope. "I'll send Quinn and MacGregor around to pick you up and see you safely to the plane," she continued speaking, although her focus was now on the hot scarlet wax dripping across the seam. "When you arrive go straight to the clan house if possible and present these papers to Roderick Weatherton and all your needs will be provided for."

Lilith looked up with her sparkling blue eyes and handed the paper to Victoria. She tilted her head to the side reading the expression in Victoria's dark eyes. It appeared as if a storm was raging behind her half closed lids. "My dear," she began and Victoria looked up from the parchment in her hand to the tiny figure behind the massive desk. "You must get used to our kind, we're not all like Jacob was."

Victoria wrinkled her brow. "Are you reading my thoughts?" Victoria questioned nervously. She hadn't felt an intrusion.

"No," Lilith laughed, "Your eyes."

Victoria tried to smile. "How should I reach you if I should learn anything interesting?" she asked as she tucked the envelope into her handbag.

Lilith thumped the side of her temple. "The usual way," her blue eyes twinkled," And if that doesn't work call this number." Lilith handed her a small business card, blank, except for the cell number embossed in black lettering across the surface. "You may not be able to reach me using your gift across the ocean. You may not be strong enough, yet."

Victoria stood and Lilith followed her motion. "I better go. I have to pack and contact a few people before I leave."

Lilith reached out and touched Victoria's arm. "You'll be fine dear, you're clever."

Victoria nodded and left the office behind. Retracing her steps back to the elevator Victoria paused in the hallway and reached for her cell phone. Turning her head left and then right, she searched the corridors for any sign that she had company. When satisfied that she was alone, she pursed her lips and dialed Sands' cell number. Her heart skipped a beat, what if he answered?

The phone rang several times and the message picked up. What would she say? Beep. "Sands, it's me, Victoria." she paused, "I didn't want you to worry when you got back and couldn't find me. I'll be gone for a few days at least. Lilith has a little job for me, I'll be out of the country." She paused again. "I hope you're all right." She paused again, "Good bye." She hit the send key and shut the phone.

Victoria leaned against the wall for a moment and sighed. She stuffed the phone into her bag and straightened up. She would go to the infirmary and see how Jackson was recovering.

Stepping into the elevator she pressed the button and the doors silently glided shut. She had forgotten to ask where the Infirmary was located. No problem. Victoria opened her mind and search the great house for Jackson. He was easy enough to find, human minds are always easy to read.

_"Jackson?"_ she said sweetly without speaking.

_"Miss Dupree?"_ he sounded excited.

_"Yes, Jackson. I'm in the house, but don't know where you are."_ She smiled as he happily explained how to find the hospital wing.

Victoria made her way to the infirmary and found the human struggling to get out of the bed. She rushed over dropping her handbag on a nearby chair and placed her hands against his chest.

"Where do you think you're going?" she scolded. The thrall pushed against her hands, but even in perfect health, he would have been no match.

"What are you wearing?" she asked as her eyes scanned his torso critically. Jackson stopped pushing and glanced down. His checks reddened.

"A hospital gown." he mumbled. Victoria took a step back.

"Well then you better stay in bed." She pointed a finger at him. "You have to do as I say, unless of course," she paused for dramatic effect. "Debbie has already come down and reclaimed her servant?"

A strange questioning look came across Jackson's face. "No Miss Dupree, she hasn't."

"How is your leg? Can you walk?" she asked as she pulled the chair up along side his bed.

"Better." his hands smoothed the bed linen. "And no, the doctor says that it will be at least four weeks, but I intend to prove him wrong."

She watched as he shifted uncomfortably. Victoria ran her hand along the length of the bed sheets and felt the bandages beneath the surface. His entire upper thigh was immobilized.

"Three hundred stitches," he said quietly.

"You don't like it here do you?" she asked sympathetically.

"No." Then she heard his thoughts silently in her mind. _"Turn me. Turn me and I'll hop out of this bed and serve you well. I wasn't meant to be confined to a bed."_

Victoria watched his eyes as his thoughts wrapped around her. She sighed and shut him out. "I came to let you know that I'm being sent on an errand and will be gone for several days. When I return I'll come and see how you are doing." She smiled and he smiled back.

"Where are you going?" he asked casually. She once again opened the silent pathway of communication between them and scanned the room with her eyes.

_"London, I am going out of town. _" His eyes grew wider_. "You are not to tell anyone. Do you understand me_?" Jackson nodded quietly and looked around_. "If something should happen to me, if I do not return by the end of the month. Find Sands and let him know where I have gone_."

Jackson's eyes narrowed at the mention of Sands' name. He then reached for Victoria's hand and carefully lifted her finger tips to his lips. Victoria watched him carefully, his lips gently kissed the back of her hand. "As you wish."

Victoria knew he meant it, she read his thoughts. He was condemning his misfortune at being wounded in the last adventure. He wanted to throw aside the covers and follow her to London.

"Stay here and heal. I'll need your services when I return." this statement brought a smile to his face. "I've got to go now. Take care, Jackson."

Victoria picked up her handbag bag and headed out the door. She paused at the entrance and glanced back, his eyes held her in place. Victoria pulled herself away. Jackson was bold, too bold and she could see why Sands disliked him so much. Then again Sands was not there and she was fairly certain that Jackson would not abandon her in a club. She would go down to the guardians to see about replacing her weapons.

The journey had been uneventful, Victoria being the only passenger on the private flight. Quinn and MacGregor had picked her up just before dawn and made sure she had made it safely to the airport and found the clan's jet. Victoria was concerned and puzzled when neither of them joined her on board. She was truly on her own this time.

As the plane circled Heaththrow, Victoria rummaged around in her carry-on, checking for her passport should she need to present her papers. How would she get past security with all these weapons? Quinn had made sure she was well prepared for any situation. A little angry that she had left her only weapon with Sands, she sighed. She'd just have to charm them and hope that was all she needed to do.

"We have clearance to land and should be on the ground in ten minutes," the pilot called back to her. "Buckle-up please."

Victoria closed her carry-on and stuffed in under her seat. Seating down she fastened her safety belt. She smiled as she smoothed her jeans, Sands would like these. Victoria decided that she had needed to blend in more with the average person on the street, so she had purchased her first pair of blue jeans. They where prematurely faded in the right places and rested low on her hips in the current fashion. She had donned a simple white v-neck T-shirt and wore a black leather jacket and black western styled boots. Wrapped around her neck was her favorite Burberry scarf.

As the plane touched down on the tarmac Victoria became aware of the presence of vampires. Many vampires! In fact more that she had ever felt in one place at one time! She drew in a quick breath as the jet came slowly to a halt.

Victoria soon found herself going through the briefest of custom checks. A clerk from the custom's office came out to the plane and met her as she stood talking to the flight attendant about what to expect. He asked her if she had any contraband, she told him she did not, and he welcomed her to Great Britain. That was it. He turned and walked off the plane as quickly as he had boarded and she looked at the flight attendant, her mouth open in surprise.

"They know us," the young thrall told her with a smile. "He takes a lengthy vacation every year and the clan house pays for it.

She nodded her understanding, picked up her handbag, and followed the attendant down the plane's steps to the waiting limousine. Apparently someone had called ahead for her. With the mounting feeling of apprehension as she once again felt the presence of many vampires, she gratefully got into the darkened interior.

Victoria settled in and buzzed the driver. The privacy screen slowly descended.

"Yes, Miss Dupree?" he questioned politely. The sound of her name distracted her for a moment.

"How long before we arrive?" she asked politely.

"Less than an hour Miss," he replied. Victoria nodded and looked out the window. The privacy screen rose again.

It seemed odd that it was sunny here in England, when it had been so dark and stormy in New York. She watched the morning traffic as the limousine moved through stop and go traffic, then moved more swiftly as they headed east.

Soon the rolling green countryside was speeding by. It reminded her of her last trip to England.

But that was a long time ago, when the city had been smaller. She liked England, so much so that she had a small flat here years later for a few years before Jacob had caught up with her.

Thinking of Jacob triggered something deep inside and then she felt it. The intrusion in the back of her mind. She frowned and shut it out. The vampires were searching for her. Then she changed her mind, opening only a small corner. It would be good to know who was looking for her.

There were many. Confused. Angry. Hungry. So hungry. And having no idea what was happening to them. They wanted to learn. To understand.

Opening her eyes, she shut off even that small connection. It was nauseating her and her hand flew to her stomach in sympathy.

So this was what was happening in London. But Lilith had wanted her to find Abberline and Sands. Perhaps they were dealing with this problem. But who would make so many? Too many meant danger for them all.

She realized she was frowning, and took a deep breath to settle her nerves and stomach. Maybe this Roderick would know something. The limousine was slowing down, she noticed. Perhaps they were almost there.

But it hadn't been an hour yet, why was the driver slowing down? Victoria reached into her bag and pulled out one of her weapons, carefully she checked to see that it was loaded and then that the safety was off. She buzzed the driver and the privacy shield when down as she tuck the gun under her jacket. "Are we there?" she asked with a smile.

"Not yet, Miss. We have to get off the highway. It's all side roads now." The chauffer smiled briefly at her in the rear view mirror, then directed his attention back to the road.

Victoria nodded and clicked the safety on her weapon. She turned her head to look out the window, where the scenery was taking a definite turn, she smile as the cement and cobblestone walk-ways gave way to hedge rows and eventually a few sheep.

She saw a gaggle of public school boys in their uniforms walking in pairs up a slight hill. The limousine turned, giving her a new view of a quaint village below. They drove down and through the village, which reminded her of a episode of the Vicar of Dibley, then up and out the far side and up a winding road to an hill covered in woods. As she looked up at the woods, she caught the hint of a steep spire of some sort.

The limousine continued to wind up the hill until they drove through a heavy iron gate, which closed behind them, and into a long drive covered by overhanging hardwood trees. At the end of the drive, a huge mansion came into sight. The drive split left and right around a formal garden, then came together again before the steps leading up to the front doors.

This, she thought, is a bigger clan house than we have in New York.

Victoria smiled at the architecture, the grand manor styling. People today lived small, in boxes so close that you could touch your neighbor.

The vehicle came to a stop and the driver hopped out to open her door. The air was cool, even though it was one of the rare days where the sun was shinning in England. She shaded her eyes and looked to the massive front doors. There stood a man, well dressed. Black hair neatly trimmed, with a generous helping of white mixed in. He smiled and walked forward to greet her.

"Good morning, Miss Dupree," he said, inclining his head. "I am Master Weatherton's executive secretary, Smithington. If you will follow me." He gestured for her to join him and they climbed the front steps side by side. "I trust your journey was comfortable?"

"Yes, " she said pleasantly lifting her carry-on over her shoulder. "The crossing was quite uneventful."

Smithington turned his head ever so slightly. "Do I detect a French accent?" he questioned.

"Yes," she paused to gauge his unusual question. "On my father's side, but my mother was English," she hastened to add.

A smile appeared across his thin lips. "Very good then, if you would follow me."

As the entered the large structure a maid approached. "Agnes will see to your bag and prepare your room." Victoria smiled at the pretty young girl and handed her the bag.

Victoria and Smithington continued on across a spotless black and white checkered tile floor, to a heavy mahogany door. Smithington tapped lightly on it, then not waiting for an answer, opened the door and stood aside saying, "Miss Dupree."

With just a hint of trepidation, Victoria started to walk into the room. Her first impression was of a huge study done in dark colors, burgundy, forest green, leathers, dark woods, then her gaze fell upon the vampire standing there. If anything, he reminded her of the movie character Austin Powers, for he was short, his hair in a sort of long 60's cut, and a broad smile on his youthful face. That is where the similarity ended, for the vampire was extremely handsome and he wore the height of the current fashion, nothing gaudy like Austin was famous for.

Victoria put on her best diplomatic smile and reached into her handbag to retrieve the letter Lilith had written on her behalf.

"Come in my dear," Weatherton was stepping forward. "Can I offer you a drink?" he asked.

Victoria handed him the parchment, "No thank you, but I have a letter for you."

"Please come in and sit down." He motioned to a pair of large leather arm chairs in front of and empty fireplace.

Victoria found herself sitting down in a very comfortable chair. "Actually, I've been sitting all night," she told him, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Oh, really?" He seemed surprise. "You didn't play ping pong on the plane?"

Her mouth opened, but no words came out, then he laughed, and she laughed, and she felt she could like this person. He was nothing like she had imagined.

"No, pilot too busy to play." she watched his face as he read the letter.

He looked up, sharing a conspiratorial smile. "I see Lilith is still writing in chicken scratch," he said. "So, tell me, have you any idea of our current situation here?"

Victoria set her handbag down and looked at Mr. Weatherton for a moment. "Not really." She decided she'd like to hear the story from his point of view. "However," I do have a couple of people I'm supposed to keep an eye out for." She stretched one of her long legs forward as she spoke.

"Which people might those be?" he asked, folding Lilith's letter and tucking into the inside pocket of his suit's jacket.

Victoria opened her mind and looked into his, wondering if he was playing her for a fool. After all he had read Lilith's letter, which she had not. Yet his mind was closed to her and he sat watching her waiting for her to reply. Victoria tried a little harder. Nothing. She did get a sense of age from Roderick. Great age. Maybe he was reading her, she thought with a sinking sensation.

But no, she would feel that. She had felt it when Viscalli had been trying to enter her thoughts.

"I'm looking for two of our members who we have reason to believe are here in London." Victoria interlaced her finger tips. "But I'm sure you already know who I am here for, after all you have the letter." Victoria let her eyes momentarily drop where he had placed Lilith's letter in his pocket before returning to lock her gaze upon his gray eyes.

"She is rather vague," he told her, "more interested that I offer you all the amenities of our humble house." He gestured to the room.

Victoria laughed. "Well then," she paused with a smile. "I'll check in with my mistress before naming names. Mr. Weatherton," she questioned, "what is going on here in London? There seems to be a lot of activity in the city."

"To tell you the truth," Roderick said, "we have lost a few members in the past month. Same over on the Continent. There's a foul wind blowing."

"How?" she asked innocently.

"They were caught unawares at first," he told her, his face solemn. "Some good people have died. Not pretty deaths. We seem to have an epidemic of newly turned vampires."

"Caught unawares?" She was unsure of what he meant. "Do you mean, overtaken?" This concerned her. This was exactly the type of situation Sheldon Jeffery Sands would get himself into, and just the type of situation he would feel was to dangerous to tell her about. She frown at little at the thought. "Because when I entered the city I felt their presence, they are hungry and confused."

Roderick sighed. "Yes. Our telepaths have reported this. They have been able to elude these gangs of freshly turned young ones for the most part, but others have been encircled, captured, drained of their knowledge and blood, until death even." He looked up, his eyes darkened by sadness. "The one great advantage we have is that they are young, so they are limited to the hours of darkness. But we must stop this plague."

"How can I be of help?" she asked, confused about Lilith's intentions for sending her here. Did she want her to find Abberline and Sands, or did she want her to help Roderick Weatherton with his little problem.

"What did Lilith tell you?" He spoke calmly, but his hands were holding the arms of his chair. "Are you merely to find the missing people? Or is she asking you to assist us in stopping this menace? Or does she think your two people have been abducted?"

"I'm here to make sure our people are safe." Victoria saw a reaction behind those gray eyes. "But if you think I can be a help here, once my mission is complete, perhaps Lilith will allow me to stay on." Victoria leaned forward. "But you should be warned, a Guardian I'm not."

"No?" he seemed genuinely surprised. "They why would she send you? You must have some special talent or connection to these mysterious missing people. If I knew more, I might be able to help."

Well, he'd thrown out a bone. She wondered if she should bite.

Victoria bit her lip, not sure what she should say or do. But Lilith had sent her here for a purpose. "Could I make a phone call?" she asked with a smile. "If I could just check in with my mistress then I would know what I am able to say." Weatherton looked surprised but waved his hand towards the phone on his desk. Victoria smiled and walked towards the phone, dialing the number Lilith had given her.

Lilith answered almost at once. "Yes?"

"It's me," Victoria said, turning to look at Weatherton. He was politely walking over to the desk and looking down at its contents, but she knew he could hear every word being said.

"Yes, Victoria. Is everything all right?" Lilith's voice held just a hint of concern.

"They are being very welcoming here," Victoria reported, "but I am unsure how much I'm allowed to say about my instructions."

"Put the old sly fox on the phone, my dear," Lilith instructed.

Victoria covered the receiver with her hand and looked to Weatherton. "She'd like to speak to you." Victoria thrust the phone forward surprised at the turn of events.

Walking back toward Victoria, Roderick took the phone. "Hello, mon amie," he said to Lilith. Victoria could hear Lilith call him several things in a language that sounded like Latin. He turned and smiled at Victoria as he patiently listened.

"Yes, my dear Lilith, I have been keeping my sharp wit keen on any whetstone I can find." He raised his brows as he looked at Victoria, "And the current one is very lovely. No. Of course. Yes. Oh, I see. Thank you for sharing. Do you want to speak to her yourself?" He held the phone back out to Victoria and she took it.

"Latin?" she asked him.

He shrugged. "We both spoke it as children you know."

"No, I didn't know," she took the phone. "Yes."

"He has guessed Abberline is involved somehow, so tell him," Lilith instructed, "but make sure that you two are not being overheard."

"And me, what should I tell him about me?" Victoria once again bit her lower lip.

"Tell him you are trained in tracking, nothing more. He doesn't have a need to know all of your secrets, my dear."

"Yes, I understand. Thank you." Victoria hung up the phone. "Shall we sit ?" Victoria motioned to the chairs.

"I thought you were tired of sitting?" he quipped.

"I am," Victoria crossed her arms. "I'm very good at finding things." She paused to see if he was listening. Weatherton straighten up and placed on hand into his jacket pocket. "I'm to locate Abberline and give him a very urgent message. That is all."

18


	54. Victoria in England

Day 6 part 7

Victoria watched as Weatherton reread the letter from Victoria. "I can only hope," his blue gaze returned to her as he spoke, "that Abberline has caught wind of our dilemma and is trying to help us out. He has a reputation as one of the last centuries great detectives, you know. But surely, being from his clan house, you have dealt with him yourself."

Victoria lowered her gaze. What would Roderick Weatherton think if he knew that less than two weeks ago, she herself had been in hiding from everyone and everything? What would he think if he knew that before two weeks ago she had never stepped into a clan house for fear of being hunted down?

She returned her gaze to him. "Yes, I have had the pleasure and you could very well be right about him." She flashed a lovely smile. "Perhaps you ought to tell me everything you know about these young vampires." She settled back in the overstuffed chair and folded her hands neatly in her lap.

With a sigh, Roderick nodded. "That is part of the problem. We've captured a few, lucky that, but they could provide little to no enlightenment. They were all turned by what they believe to be a male vampire. This is due to the strength. They all remember someone of great strength." He looked at Victoria. "They nothing like us. They went through no thrall period or training. They are turned and basically abandoned. Many kill one another."

He stood up and moved to the desk. "Lately the reports have come in that they have formed a lose affiliation, with a pecking order. Now they are truly dangerous. like a pack of wild dogs." He picked up a folder and brought it over to her. "Why don't you take a look at these reports? I'll have you shown to your room. You can take your time, then come down this afternoon and I will have called some of my Guardians in to meet you."

Victoria took the folder from his hand and nodded in agreement. It was thick. After she retrieved her handbag, she paused.

"You said they believed it was a male vampire, not of the newly turned saw their master then?"

Weatherton stood by the door. "No, they did not," he said with concern before opening the door. A young woman in a maid's uniform suddenly appeared.

"Meg, take Miss Dupree to her room." He turned his attention back to her. "I'll have a tea tray sent up shortly." Victoria smiled and followed the young woman. Victoria looked into her thoughts. Meg was a thrall, and had served Weatherton's household for the last three years.

Victoria tried to get a look around the great house as the pair walked. Strange, she thought it looked very much like the New York house

"Here's you room, Miss." Meg opened the door and showed her in. Victoria's bag was sitting on the bed and patches of sunlight filtered in through the window as the far side of the room. "Shall I close the curtains Miss?" Meg asked, clearly sizing Victoria up.

"No, I rather like the sun." Victoria smiled exposing a sharp fang. She really did not care for busybodies.

Meg's eyes widened. "You may go," Victoria said quietly and Meg rushed out of the room.

Victoria settled onto the window seat with the folder and began to read the pages within. Several hours passed only interrupted once with a tea tray, that still remained untouched.

Putting the papers aside, Victoria looked at the clock on the nightstand. It said it was after 5p.m. She compared its to her own watch, and realized she hadn't put it ahead yet. She remedied the situation, then stood and stretched. It was probably time she find her way downstairs.

She took the time to look at the room she was in with a critical eye. It had a lovely large lead glass window that faced the immaculate gardens below and unless the window curtains were drawn tightly shut, sunlight would filter in all day long. Obviously Weatherton had arranged this particular room before meeting her, so he must have assumed she was an older vampire. No, mature, she thought smiling. She would never let herself get old.

Picking up the papers, which were all stamped in red with the word "Confidential," she headed for the hallway.

Retracing her steps, she easily made her way back to Weatherton's office. Straightening up, she listened for a moment and heard several voices from within. She knocked on the door and waited, smoothing her shirt and then running a hand along the side of her dark hair.

The door opened and Victoria found herself looking into the bright blue eyes of a woman about five feet tall. She reminded Victoria of Weatherton and she wondered briefly if they were related.

"You must be Victoria," the vampire held out her hand. "I'm Agatha. Do come in." She gestured with her hand to the room beyond. In a quick count, Victoria saw more than a dozen vampires of all shapes and sizes. She smiled at Agatha. "Thank you," and stepped inside.

In London, Abberline stood by a window looking out at the darkness. "How much longer, do you think?" Sands asked, coming up behind him.

Abberline stood gazing out the window , arms folded as he seemed to stare off into space a fixed point. He did not turn to meet Sands 'gaze. "Two hours before the sun completely sets. Then they'll be out, but as long as our shields are up we should be able to avoid meeting them on any terms but our own. " A brief smiled appeared at the corner of his lips.

"This gift you gave me," Sands said softly. The tone of his voice drew Abberline's gaze away from the window. "It's been a life saver. Did I ever thank you?"

Abberline smile more broadly, a twinkle appearing in his dark eyes. "No, I don't believe you ever did."

Sands sniffed. "I'll have to remember to do that some time." He put on a charmingly disarming smile. "Time to get dressed in our new clothes."

Abberline shook his head. "It's not a game."

"Oh, but it is." Sands went over to the bags they had piled at the foot of the bed. "Everything is a game. We can't take it too seriously or it's no fun."

"I don't understand you," Abberline said, watching the way Sands stood, the tilt of his head, the way his long wet hair was dripping onto the bathrobe Abberline had loaned him.

"What's to understand? I live for the moment. Oh, no. Wait. I'm not really alive am I? So I'm dead for the moment."

"Don't you take anything seriously?" Abberline questioned, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly arms still tightly folded against his chest.

Sands looked thoughtful for a moment. "Just my job, boss." He looked around the room. "I would feel better if we had some decent weapons against all these young critters."

"They are people," Abberline told him.

"No," Sands' dark eyes met his. "Don't think of them as people or you will feel sympathy. Sympathy may delay you, just for a second, but it may be the second that determines if you continue on in this world or not." He gave a quick half-smile, one that said 'I'm sorry to have to tell you this even if you're technically my superior, but there it is.'

Abberline's head lowered as he took a deep breath releasing the tension that was building inside. He did not relish the job ahead of them. After all, Sands was right, they would all have to be destroyed. Abberline watched Sands through half closed lids. Sands was busily pulling their new clothes from the black plastic shopping bags and throwing them into piles on the bed in a nonchalant manner. Abberline turned and began emptying his pockets on to the bedside table.

"You hide your emotions well, Sands, perhaps too well." Abberline commented dryly as his cell dropped onto the small table.

The noise from Sands stopped. "I don't hide, I submerge. You were lucky, Abberline, you had a powerful mentor who sheltered you. But I bet you remember what it was like before you were turned." Sands moved up to him and Abberline found himself looking onto eyes that were difficult to fathom. "You remember the pain of seeing bodies in the morgue. Of seeing children dying in the gutter. I lived in London then, too, you know."

"I don't know what you mean," Abberline replied dismissively, focusing more on the dingy carpet below Sands' wet feet.

That didn't seem good enough for Sands, he moved up even closer, invading Abberline's personal space. "Then you know we have to treat them like the enemy they are," he told Abberline. "No sympathy. No exceptions. We hunt them down before they hunt us down. Capiche?"

Abberline was at heart a gentleman, but he understood Sands' meaning. Too much was at stake, this situation was too dangerous. Abberline took a step back and looked up into Sands' dark eyes. "Well," he paused, "that's why I have enlisted you." Pointing to his pockets, he continued, "Leave your personal belonging behind." He raised an eyebrow. "In case you're captured of course." A thin smile appeared across his lips.

Sands got a cocky look on his face. "I have no intentions of letting the little buggers get me. I'm the hunter now." He had a predatory gleam in his chocolate-colored eyes now, one Abberline had seen before as Sands headed out of Clan House loaded down with the newest weapons hidden upon his person.

"Empty your pockets," Abberline repeated as he poked at Sands' torso.

Sands got an exasperated look on his face. "I'm wearing your robe. The clothes are all new and have nothing of mine in them. What am I supposed to empty?" He had an innocent choir boy look now as he demanded a response.

"Well, I know you are not planning on being apprehended, but it has happened in the not so distant past and we would want to lead these creatures back to the ones we love, now would we?" Abberline took out a billfold and laid it on the table next to his cell phone and then removed a distinctive gold ring and placed it carefully on the table.

Turning, Abberline saw that Sands had not moved. His eyes were staring straight ahead, an almost feral look upon his handsome face. Suddenly it struck Abberline like a bucket of cold water. He heard his own words echo in his head: "_I know you are not planning on being apprehended, but it has happened in the not so distant past_." Thoughts of the stories he had heard about Sands being apprehended by the Nazis came to mind and he inwardly cringed for speaking so thoughtlessly.

Abberline slowly placed a hand on Sands shoulder, his voice grew softer. "I'm sorry, I did not mean what I said, I was careless in my choice of words. You must forgive me, too many thoughts are rushing through my mind."

Sands blinked, his gaze refocusing on Abberline. "What?" He blinked again. "No, you are right. If there is someone behind these kids, he may be waiting for vampires like us to make a move. I didn't think of it before. This is not such a piece of cake after all." He looked pointedly down at Abberline's hand on his shoulder. "I didn't know you cared," he said with a wicked grin, his mood switching as suddenly as a strobe light.

Abberline quickly cupped his hand and playfully swatted Sands in the head. "Get dressed," he instructed as he reached for his own pile of clothes.

9


	55. Guns and Eyeliner

Day 6 part 9

"Pleased to meet you, won't you come in?" Agnes greeted Victoria at the door to Weatherton's office. Quickly Victoria raked the room with her eyes. There were fourteen vampires here, all dressed in black, all smiling in her direction. It looked like the vampiric version of a Secret Service convention. Her arms tightened around the folder she carried.

"Mmnn, thank you," Victoria replied as she slowly entered the room. This made her extremely uncomfortable. She felt a little like a lamb going to slaughter.

"Why don't you sit here?" Weatherton offered her a large leather chair nearest to his own. Victoria nodded and crossed the room, knowing that all eyes followed her every step. Why hadn't she told Lilith that she was uncomfortable in the presence of so many vampires? Pride, she decided. She had not wanted Sands' maker and former lover to think she was weak. But now surveying the situation, Lilith should have known how she felt.

"Well," Weatherton's voice broke into her thoughts. "I have briefed the Guardians on your mission with us." He smiled in a charming manner dropping his eyes to the file in her lap. "Did you find anything helpful in our notes?"

Victoria had indeed found his file helpful. According to the report, all the vampires turned seemed to be the young rebellious type; young adults who favored the Gothic scene and the few subjects the Guardians were able to capture had all come from the same section of London. The young vampires all related the same tale of being violently turned and left to fend for themselves.

The Guardians had discovered that a few of the young had banned together into a sort of loosely knit clan. This gave her a fairly good idea of where to begin her search for Abberline and Sands, whom she felt sure were now somehow involved. After all Sands owned a goth club in New York, he would be the perfect guide for Abberline into this strange world.

"Yes, it was very interesting," she let her natural accent flow. "Very good detective work. Have you gone to the West End to have a look around?" she asked politely.

Weatherton turned to Agnes. "Perhaps you could field Miss Dupree's question."

Agnes leaned against a nearby fireplace mantle. As Agnes began to speak, Victoria initiated her own detective work. Slowly she began to delve into Agnes' mind. There was no barrier and the talkative vampire seemed not to notice the intrusion. Victoria looked for images of Abberline or Sands. None were present. Keeping her eyes focused on the Guardian as she spoke, Victoria nodded occasionally to fain interest as she continued moving throughout the group. One by one she entered their minds, looking for clues, looking to see if any of them had seen Abberline or Sands recently. She was disappointed to find that they knew nothing.

After an unusually long pause, Victoria refocused her attention to Roderick Weatherton. "You said that you had used telepaths?" She saw Weatherton's brows arched. "Where are they? Would it be possible to speak to any of them? It could be helpful." As she smiled graciously, Victoria noticed several of the Guardians shift uncomfortably at her request. Weatherton motioned to Agnes and whispered into her ear. Agnes nodded.

"Will you be requiring any of our services this evening?" Agnes asked Victoria politely.

Victoria looked straight into Agnes' cold expression. "No, not this evening, I need to rest and I need to feed. Perhaps tomorrow." At this Agnes raised her palm and with a quick motion turned to leave the room with all the English Guardians in tow. Victoria noticed that several were careful to avoid eye contact with her. But she smiled pleasantly to those who looked back. When the door had shut Victoria turned her attention to Weatherton, "Was it something I said?" She handed him the envelope.

"As a matter of fact it was. "He took the envelope and placed on a small table that rested near his chair. "They don't care for the company of the telepaths." He smiled and reached for his drink. " They're afraid of them mostly. The Guardians are very private and don't like people prying around in their minds."

Victoria smiled calmly. "Oh," she replied softly.

"Can I offer you a drink?" he began lifting himself from his chair.

"Oh yes, that would be lovely," she replied and followed him as he crossed the room to a small mahogany bar.

As Abberline walked beside Sands, his senses took in the sights, sounds, and scents of the early evening. He looked at the faces of the Londoners heading home or to the local pub, or those who were out doing Christmas shopping. It was only after they'd made four our five turns down side streets that he realized Sands was not leading them toward the nightclub district.

"Sands," he said softly, "where are we going?" The scenery was getting a little dirty, a little less well traveled.

"I have some shopping to do," Sands replied, not answering the question.

Sands seemed to have the lay of the land. "Shopping?" Abberline inquired. "Now? Here?" He quickened his step and came up along side Sands.

The handsome vampire turned to face him, and Abberline was reminded, as he looked at the eyeliner around Sands' eyes, that he also wore make-up.

"I am naked without my guns," Sands said. He had a charming smile on his face, as if he'd just said it was a lovely night.

"Guns?" Abberline had been trained as an officer of the law to operate without guns. He never liked them, though he understood the need for them at times. "Do you really think you'll need guns?"

"We will need guns," Sands told him.

"And where are you planning to get weapons? The last time I checked Britain did not allow its citizens or police force to carry fire arms."

Sand briefly turned his head and smiled. "Don't worry, I know a guy."

Abberline shook his head, "I'll bet you do." Abberline began to grin, he felt a bit of admiration for Sands at that point. The guy was always true to himself.

They made a few more turns and ended up on a rather nice street, a circle of homes, their brightly painted doors facing the small wrought iron fences of almost virtual front yards. Street lights were coming on, reminding Abberline of how London looked over a hundred years ago.

"Number fourteen," Sands spoke. He headed up the steps to that home and used the front door bell. Abberline followed him up the steps and waited at his side.

"This looks like a rather nice place, are we dressed properly for the occasion?" Abberline quipped always socially conscience.

Sands waved him off. "If you only knew, Abberline."

They both stopped talking as the sound of approaching footsteps from the other side of the door captured their attention. It opened and they found themselves looking at a senior citizen who wore her steel gray hair pulled up in a bun, a high necked, navy colored floral print housecoat and an oversized black sweater that appeared hand-knit. "May I help you?" she asked sweetly.

"Volumes and volumes," Sands replied.

"Dickens or Thackery?"

"Sir Arthur Conan Doyle." Sands stood smiling back.

"Come in, gentlemen." She opened the door.

Slightly baffled at the reference to one of his personal friends from a century ago, Abberline followed Sands inside the well-kept home. Its interior also reminded him of his Victorian past. He pondered the use of code words and wondered if this was one of Sands' CIA contacts.

The old woman shut and bolted the door and then turned to join them. "I think I have what you gentleman are looking for down in the library. If you would follow me." She smiled sweetly and reminded him of a friendly fish monger he once knew a lifetime ago.

The flat was well kept, with lace doilies and small porcelain figures adorning the shelves. Faded canvases of flower arrangements in oils lined the corridor. The scent of gingerbread filled the air as they got closer to the kitchen, but they turned away into the library. It looked like the library of a person who loved books. Hardwood shelves ran from floor to ceiling, and there were four large, hunter green leather armchairs strategically placed, flanked by reading lamps and at the far end a large walnut desk.

"So, how is Oscar?" Sands asked the woman.

"He's out working," she answered. "Berlin I think. I can't keep track anymore. They wanted to retire him from the field, but he doesn't want a desk job."

Abberline looked at Sands, who mouthed "Her son," back at him.

Abberline nodded quietly, but this still didn't look like the type of place to purchase fire arms, but perhaps that was why it was the perfect front.

"Gentlemen," she held out a buddle," is this what you're looking for?"

Sands took the bundle and carefully opened it to reveal a long black leather-covered box. He lifted the lid and looked at the weapon and silencer within. A smile curved the corners of his mouth. "This is perfect," he said in a warm voice. "You are a jewel. You must thank Oscar for me. Tell him his crazy friend was here."

She laughed. "They're all crazy, aren't they?"

"All right, his craziest friend," Sands smiled over at Abberline, who was looking altogether too sober.

The lady folded her arms across the flower print of her house coat. "How about your friend, does he like books?" she inquired.

"Oh yes," Sands replied but he 's not an avid reader."

The woman chuckled.

It went unsaid that Sands and the woman were talking in code again. Abberline assumed a solemn expression. "Is there is something for me?"

"Only if she has three of these," Sands said. "I like having a minimum of two good handguns. I don't suppose you have a small one I can hide somewhere?" he asked turning back to the woman.

"Of course, deary," she replied and walked over to a bookshelf and removed a stack of leather bound volumes to reveal another small bundle. "Perhaps this will do?"

Sands took the new bundle and flipped the cloth off. He held a small Baretta. "Sweet." He smiled, like a child opening presents on Christmas morning.

"So, how many of the handguns do you need?"

"Three, with holsters, and this little baby," Sands answered quickly. "We'll need the ammo, too. You can bill my account."

"The number?" she asked, going to a ledger book on the desk and flipping it open.

"004509S," he answered quickly. "I haven't had to avail myself of your services for quite a while."

She flipped back toward the front of the book. "Quite a while," she agreed, looking from the pages to his face.

"I'm older than I look." Sands graced her with his most charming smile.

The woman marked her ledger and looked at him from the corner of her eye, a glimmer of recognition seemed to appear. "I'll get the ammo," she stated. "Wait here."

The woman left the room and Abberline and Sands were alone. Abberline had crossed his arms against his chest. "So when was the last time you visited this establishment?"

Sands was still fondling his new toys. "Perhaps about the eighties."

"You have a photographic memory. I'm sure you can be more precise," Abberline prodded.

"February 4, 1985," Sands said quickly. "Happy?"

"She knows you can not look like you do and stand here twenty years later," Abberline frowned.

"She'll think I have a trick."

"That's quite a trick," Abberline commented. "Fountain of youth."

"Portrait in the attic."

Abberline laughed. Sands looked up surprised at the outburst. "It was a good pun, but really Sands you should be more careful."

"She'll think I'm my son or something. I'm not worried. I can make her think what I want anyway." Sands was still distracted by the guns.

"Then you had better attend to it," Abberline told him. "Or you may have this Oscar asking questions. I trust he's one of your spy friends."

"Spies have no friends," Sands said, his voice suddenly cold and flat. "I thought I explained that to you in 45."

Abberline waved him off. "All right, acquaintances then." Abberline broke off his conversation and shut his eyes, intently listening. Sands knew it had to be the master.

"Here is the ammo," the gray-haired woman re-entered the room. "Would you like some tea?"

"No thank you, dear," Sands smiled, setting the guns carefully on the desktop and then taking the ammo and putting it next to the weapons. "What about holsters. Would you have holsters?"

She began to answer, looking into his eyes, and her words trailed off. Sands put a friendly hand on his shoulder, but his mind was invading hers, telling her he was the son of an old and trusted customer, who had been a friend of Oscar's. She'd met him when he was just in his twenties, back in 1985. He told her she had no questions about him or his companion. Then he removed his hand, and picked up the conversation. "Yes, holsters for both of us would be great."

The woman exited the room and return with the holsters, handing them over she smiled. "You know, you've grown into the spitting image of your father."

Sands gave her a charming smile. "Yes, so I've heard." Abberline listened to the exchange and then touched Sands lightly on the shoulder. "We should be going."

"So soon?" she asked wistfully.

"I'm sorry," Sands told her. "Would you give us a moment, my dear?"

She nodded and left. Sands began to load his weapons, handing a holster to Abberline and donning two himself.

"You know I don't really like guns," Abberline said quietly as he held the holster in one hand as if it were quite distasteful.

"Yeah well, get over it. From what you've told me these kids are a bad brood," Sands snapped. "And what was that with the silent treatment a minute ago? The boss checking in?"

Abberline sighed. "Yes, as a matter of fact he was."

"What does he want now?" Sands asked. "Don't tell me he doesn't like guns."

Abberline began to fasten the holster around his frame. "He wants to know why we are not out looking for the children and he is a little curious about our attire."

"So he can even see us? Interesting," Sands said, tucking the small gun into his right boot. "Well, you see, the kids don't go directly to the clubs right at sunset, do they? They don't even open until nine or so. We have a few hours to just hunt around."

"Now you tell me!" Abberline complained. "But yes, he can see us through my eyes."

Sands' eyebrows arched in surprise and then he waved rather childishly toward Abberline.

"Oh knock it off." Abberline scolded.

"Time to go a-hunting," Sands said.

They both turned as they heard the old woman return. "There, you are ready then?" she asked. "I'll show you out."

They followed her back down the hall, past the delicious odors coming from the kitchen, and to the front door.

"Keep yourselves safe," she said, opening the door.

"You, too," Sands told her. He again looked deeply into her eyes. "I'm glad to have this chance to do business with you." He released her from his gaze and followed Abberline out into the quickly chilling evening air.


End file.
